The Other Ones
by LegacyIntegral
Summary: A third Group. Entirely composed of males. 75 subjects. No Trigger subjects. No interaction with the other groups. WICKED created this third group out of male subjects that weren't included in Group A. Will they survive? Or will they perish against the wrath of Grievers, nature, Cranks, and WICKED? [Currently on: Scorch Trials]
1. Chapter 1: Strangers

**Before You Read:**

1\. This story is NOT movie-canon, but rather goes with the events of the book.

2\. This will be stated in the WICKED email, but the characters are not named after people from history, but rather retain their birth names.

3\. This Group was engineered to be a sort-of "experiment" group. Adrian, the year-two Greenie, the equivalent of Thomas, is not a Trigger subject (Meaning he's special) but he will still be the protagonist for most of the story.

4\. There WILL be multiple perspectives, and they are all in the third-person. Sorry if you don't like that. :(

5\. I reply to reviews in PMs. :)

Read on!

* * *

WICKED Memorandum

Date 230.1.04, Time 15:26

TO: My Associates

FROM: Ava Paige, Chancellor

RE: THOUGHTS ON MAZE TRIALS, Group C

 _Our plans to initiate the third Maze Group have been working splendidly; This group will consist of the many subjects that we did not implement into Group A due to our calculations: Seventy-five subjects, all as efficient as those in Group A. We'll start with an initial group of fifty-one and then over a course of two years we will monitor their killzones. Subject C-1, otherwise known as Lee, is showing high signs of leadership, and our calculations show that he will likely "lead," if you will, Group C, similar to Group A's "Alby" and Group B's "Harriet." We will not pamper these subjects and will give them the same Maze as Group A and B, but there will be some changes to their Trials to accommodate this new Group: No Trigger subjects will be used. I feel fairly sure that in a course of two years, these boys will crack the "code" to escaping their Maze. We will still initiate a Trigger, but there will be no Trigger subjects involved (In Group A's case, the subjects were Thomas and Teresa, and in Group B's case, they were Aris and Rachel)._

 _I am very confident in Group C and I expect them to function just as well as Group A and Group B._

 _And another thing: These subjects will retain their original birth names, rather than gift them the names of geniuses that have blessed our planet._

 _WICKED is good._

* * *

Lee eyes cracked open to sunlight. The redhead blinked, raising a hand to shield himself from the sun's rays. Lee moved, groaning a bit as his stiff limbs came to life. He rose his head, propping himself on one elbow, expecting to find himself in a backyard.

Instead, he was greeted by grass.

Lee lay in a sprawling green plains surrounded by huge, thousand-foot stone walls that formed a perfect square around the grassy area. In the corner was a small forest, and in another corner was a barn, with penned animals; Sheep, cows, pigs, everything. There was a house and a reasonably large garden as well. In the center of the plains was a black hole, maybe the size of two elevators. The only other building of interest was the small concrete one, which lay in-between the house and the elevator. But it was none of those things that baffled Lee.

What baffled him was his loss of memory.

He had no idea why or how he was there.

He knew how the sun was blue and how the grass was green and how cows mooed but he didn't know he got there, why he was there, or who he was. Blotchy images jumped around his head, lingering only for a second. He knew his name, and that was it. Not his age, his appearance, or his family. Over and over he racked his brain for anything, anyone. Nothing. The memories taunted him, just out of reach. It took him almost five minutes to notice the fifty boys.

Boys of all shapes and sizes lay in a huge group, ranging from fourteen to seventeen. Many sat there with blank faces, others were crying, a few were walking around the group trying to spot a familiar face in the crowd. Lee rose to his feet, feeling a nagging hunger. He guessed it must have been around noon, maybe later. Lee started walking towards the elevator, feeling drawn to the device. A few boys who had regained their wits tried to warn him.

"Watch out, man. There might be, like, alligators in there or somethin'," A shorter boy with black hair warned.

Lee, undeterred, continued towards the box and closed the distance within seconds. The redhead peered into the box, half-expecting the alligators the other boy had warned about.

Instead, he found supplies.

Crates, packages, backpacks, a few burlap sacks, several tools; They all lay within the box. Lee jumped down, rattling the elevator as his sneakers connected with the metal, and slid the top off of a crate. He was greeted with cans of food. Peaches, peas, chicken, beef, beans, pears, the whole nine. Several cans looked like they had been grabbed straight from the supermarket (At least Lee thought it was called that) while others looked like they had been plucked from military bases. Relieved, Lee slid the top off of another crate, finding jars of water, maybe three dozen of them at a glance. Lee was about to open a third backpack when he heard a voice.

"Need some help?"

Lee whirled around to see two boys; One of which was a tall, Asian boy with jet-black hair and the other was an equally tall boy with short, curly brown hair and bright-blue eyes.

Lee paused, observing the strangers. "Yeah...help would be nice."

The blue-eyed boy jumped into the box first. "Name's Justin," he introduced.

"I'm Thien," the Asian boy added.

"Do you two know each other?" Lee asked.

"Not a shuck clue who this guy is," Thien replied, pointing a finger at Justin. "Actually, haven't a shuck clue about who anybody is. Barely know my own name."

Lee's nose wrinkled. "What does 'shuck' mean?"

"What does what mean?"

"You said 'shuck' just a second ago."

Thien blew air through his mouth. "Did I? I don't know what it means. Maybe, like, some of our vocab was erased with our memories, y'know?"

Lee didn't like that word. _Erased_. To Lee, it meant that his memories were no longer obtainable. Nonetheless, there was work to do. Justin started to *carefully* hand the crates and packages of food up to Thien whilst Lee zipped open a backpack full of medical supplies.

"Whoa!" Justin exclaimed. "Gimme that pack, yeah?"

Lee tossed the backpack to him and continued to take inventory of what they had. A notebook and a few pens. Another pack, filled with toiletries, a few bottles of water, and fruit and vegetable seeds.

"How's it looking?" Lee asked to Justin, who was still rifling through the backpack.

"Penicillin, morphine, aloe, bandages and gauze, auto-injectors, antiseptic, even a few herbal meds. The whole nine," Justin replied. "And these."

Justin was holding four auto-injectors in his hands. Each one had the same thing scrawled on it in black letters:

 **PROPERTY OF:**

 **World In Catastrophe, Killzone Experiment Department**

 **WICKED**

 **GRIEF SERUM**

"What's WICKED?" Thien asked. "Sounds real menacing."

Lee ignored the seemingly made-up curse word. "'World in Catastrophe? Killzone?' That doesn't sound good at all."

Justin shook his head. "No, it doesn't," he said. "Looks like this is something called the 'Grief Serum.' Doesn't sound too nice but I'll keep them. You can put me in charge of meds."

"We'll be needing at least one medic around here," Lee half-thought, half-said aloud to Justin. "You can be in charge of the medics; We'll call 'em Med-jacks. Pretty soon we'll be needing to assign jobs."

"Jobs?" Thien asked.

"Yeah. Odds are, we're gonna be here for awhile, right? Gotta have order. We need to function as a community to make it through this. Communities have jobs. Farmers, builders, doctors, custodians, baggers."

"Baggers?" Justin asked.

"Not all of us will make it through this."

Thien chuckled dryly. "Shuck, man, that's a pretty dark way of lookin' at it."

"And a real one," Lee retorted. "I bet you a million bucks that not all of us will survive this. We've gotta bury the dead. Let's assign a job of being a Bagger. Baggers clean up the bodies of dead people, and then bury them. Don't want the farmers getting squeamish."

"Shuck man," Justin replied. "That's dark, real dark, but I guess it makes sense. Will the Baggers just sit around and bury shanks all day?"

"No, they'll have other jobs. Maybe butchers or something, shuck, they can figure it out. But what's a shank?"

Justin shrugged. "Not sure. Just rolled off the tongue. I didn't make it up, though. It just...came out."

"Who cares?" Thien asked. "If this little civilization klunk is gonna go through, we better be feeding shanks. I'll ration out the food, and I can be one of your chefs. I'll get some poor kid to help me with the distribution."

At that statement, Justin seemed to remember something. "Oh! Yeah! What are we?"

Lee looked at him. "Humans? Boys?"

"Yeah, I know that klunk," he said, rolling his eyes. "But what do we call ourselves?"

"Gladers?" Lee asked.

Thien wrinkled his nose. "Gladers? The shuck is that?"

"Well, I mean, a glade is an open, like, grassy place or something. Who lives in the grassy place thing? Us. Gladers."

"Oh. That makes sense," Thien responded, and then lifted up a crate of canned food and then lumbered off to go feed the other Gladers.

Lee and Justin cleared the rest of the elevator with ease, finding a few blades and hatchets, a small bit of food, and a lot of building materials and tools; hammers, crowbars, nailguns, you name it. As they were taking out the last of the supplies gifted to them by, well, whoever built this place (presumably), Justin pointed at something.

"What's that?"

Lee turned. "What's what?"

"That," Justin replied, finger still pointing at a scrap of paper on the floor.

Lee bent over, picking it up. On it was scrawled:

 _Supplies every week_

 _People every month  
_

 _You ask, we deliver._

"You think this was sent in by the people who made this place? The Creators?" Justin asked, who had approached Lee to get a better look at the note.

Lee crumbled up the note and put it in the back pocket of his jeans. "Might very well be. We might get new people, maybe new boys, a month. And perhaps supplies? But what in the name of shuck is all that stuff about asking and delivering?"

"I guess this place will never have its share of unfinished shuckin' questions," grumbled Justin. "Well, we better explore."

"Explore?"

"Yeah. Thien's got the majority of the Gladers under control with the food and water; I think some cans actually have water in them. But we should go check out the rest of this glade thing and make sure it's, y'know, habitable. Don't want snakes or gorillas killing us."

Lee raised an eyebrow. "Snakes and gorillas?"

Justin sheepishly grinned."Maybe not those, but you never know."

Lee chuckled and the two got out of the elevator, heading towards the barn. Within minutes, they reached the barn. Lee stepped inside while Justin walked around, inspecting all the animals. As expected, the barn looked like a slaughterhouse. The thought of getting the Gladers organized still fresh in his head, Lee marked the barn as the primary place where the butchers, who he had named Slicers, would be spending their time. He stepped out of the barn, where Justin greeted him with a report on all the animals: Sheep, cows, chickens, pigs, goats, and even a few horses. Lee started to jog towards the gardens while Justin broke off, telling him that he would go help Thien with the food rationing. Once reaching the garden, Lee began to take inventory. It was a decently-sized garden, but it would have to need a ton of expansion if it was to be farmed by the Gladers, and Lee imagined a great deal of Gladers would be farming. He decided that the farmers would be called Track-Hoes. It was also equipped with a water pump; Lee made a mental note in his head to He grabbed a handful of berries from a nearby bush, and popped them into his mouth as he strolled towards the house. The berries were not very filling, but were sweet and tasted nice enough. Reaching the house, Lee walked in.

It was a large, single-story building. It had a fairly large living room, with stairs leading up to the flat roof of the house. A few empty bedrooms lay inside, which Lee decided would be infirmaries for the sick and wounded. A kitchen, not the biggest ever but it had all the functions of your average kitchen. Deciding the place looked over, Lee left the house (naming it the Homestead) and started to sprint towards the other Gladers.

Thien, Justin, and two other Gladers Lee didn't recognize were distributing cans and jars/bottles of water to hungry Gladers.

"Hey, Lee," Thien greeted.

"You're the leader?" asked one of the boys distributing the supplies. He had curly black hair and bright-green eyes.

"Yeah," he responded. "Name's Lee."

The boy smiled a little bit. "I could've guessed that, with Thien's greeting and all," he said. "I'm Chris. Just call me Kit. I heard some klunk about jobs? I think I've got an eye for architecture. Could I be one of the builders?"

"Yeah, sure. But for now, we've got to rally these shanks into accepting that just sitting here won't do us any good."

"We got a few Gladers to man up," Justin added. "Kit and Adam here—" at his mention, the other boy turned and waved—"But nobody seems too keen on doing anything right now save for eat and sit here."

Lee felt a plethora of emotions and feelings swirl up within him; Fear, motivation, anger, relief, more fear. Waking up in this glade without your memory and with fifty other boys would be pretty scary. And leading them (Which Lee intended to do)? Even more terrifying. But Lee felt that if someone didn't take charge, soon fighting would break out, and that would worsen the whole shuck thing more than anything.

Without full knowledge of what he was doing, Lee started to clap to get the attention of the eating Gladers. Thien continued to give cans of food to the remaining unfed Gladers whilst Adam, Kit, and Justin started to clap as well. Within seconds, all of the Glade's residents had their eyes glued to the pale boy.

Taking a deep breath, Lee started his little speech.

"I'm willing to bet that all of you have no memory."

"And just bloody how did you come to that conclusion?" someone shouted from the crowd.

"I don't have my memory. Thien and Justin here don't have their memory. I don't think Kit and Adam have theirs. I think it's the same story. Now I have to ask you again. Do you all have no memory of how old you are, how you got here, or your past life?"

A few yeahs and yeses swept through the crowd of teenagers. A few in the crowd nodded.

"Alright, now we're on the same page, I have to tell you shanks something. Odds are, we're gonna be here awhile. We need to start working. Sustaining ourselves. Living. This canned food won't feed us forever. I took a look around this Glade, and I found a garden and a barn. A house, too. We have to work hard if we're gonna make it through this."

"What's out there? Outside the walls?" a younger boy asked.

Lee paused, trying to come up with a good reply. "I don't really know, but I have a feeling it won't just be a door if we explore. It could be a twisting and bending road or just an empty road that goes on for miles or a maze or whatever, but for now we need to focus on what's inside the walls: our to-be home. Would anyone be willing to join Kit here—" He jabbed a finger towards the boy—"In building a home for ourselves?"

After a moment or two, a couple of Gladers stepped through the crowd, and reluctantly took their place at Kit's side. Fear was etched across each and every one of those boys' faces; Lee wondered if his was the same.

"Good. We'll start assigning jobs tomorrow and the day after. Keepers will be in charge of each job. I know this may seem bleak and you don't know who I am and I'm sure you don't like getting ordered around, but if we are going to live, we need to understand who we are."

He took in another deep breath.

"We are Gladers."

 **o0o**

The fire crackled and popped as Adam tossed some firewood on it.

"There," he said. Adam had dirty-blonde hair and turquoise eyes. His face was covered in sweat.

"Nice job, Adam," congratulated Thien, who was currently spooning out some canned corn.

"Wish we had some shuckin' baths or somethin'," Adam replied, plopping down with a tired groan next to Justin. "Tired as shuck, though."

"We'll work out a bathing system in a few days," Lee said. "Can't have dirty, sweaty shanks running around like pigs."

The fire was small, and only Thien, Justin, Lee, Adam, and another boy named Hunter could sit around it. Kit had gone off with the few Builders he had several hours ago, and had been around the Homestead all day. To Kit's luck, however, a few more Gladers decided they wanted to be Builders and joined him. From Lee's spot near the Box, it looked like Kit had constructed a few hammocks and had also started on the second floor of the Homestead. Well, "started" wouldn't really be the right word. He clearly planned it out, but no work had really been done due to lack of tools, people, and materials. Kit, a second in-command of the Builders, Matthew, and a couple other Builders lay in the constructed hammocks. Kit and Matthew were talking to each other but the other Builders appeared to have already drifted off.

"Gotta say," Thien said through a mouthful of corn, "You got these shanks under control pretty quickly. Nobody died or anything, so that's pretty great. What're you thinking for tomorrow?"

Lee paused, hand on his chin."We should assign Gladers jobs. Justin, you could do with some Med-jacks, and Thien, a few more Cooks wouldn't do any harm."

"I don't think I'll need too many Med-jacks," Justin replied. "Maybe, like, one or two."

"Alright, if you insist. We still need Slicers, Bricknicks, Track-Hoes, Sloppers, Runners, and Baggers."

"Wait, hold up," Hunter interrupted. "I think I can maintain the farmers, but what in the name of shuck is a Slopper, a Runner, and a Bricknick?"

"Well, the Bricknicks will fix up things the Builders break, the Sloppers will just clean up klunk and trash, and the Runners will explore."

Hunter was still confused. "Explore what?"

Lee nodded to the North Door. "Whatever is out _there_."

"Do you think something bad is out there?" Justin asked.

"As in?" Lee replied.

"Like, giant snakes or like slugs or huge shuck spiders."

"Better not be," Hunter chimed in. "Done with this whole shuck mess if I've got to deal with shuckin' spiders."

Lee was about to agree when a terrible grinding sound filled the air. The boys around the fire and the other Gladers scattered around the Glade put their hands to their ears.

"What the shuck is that?!" Thien yelled through the grinding.

"The doors!" Lee cried.

The large doors leading to whatever was outside of the Glade were moving. Seemingly defying every law of physics, Lee and the others watched in a mixture of shock and awe. Each one moving with ease, sliding across the exits to the Glade. Within a minute, they had shut.

Dead silence filled the Glade.

 **o0o**

It was early. 5:53 in the morning, to be exact. At least that's what Lee's watch read. The newly-crowned leader of the Gladers maneuvered his way through the pack of sleeping Gladers, careful not to step on anyone. Luckily for him, Kit and a couple of other Gladers had slept in the hammocks, making Lee's task much easier. The doors to the outside were still sealed, hiding their secrets for the time being. Needing some time away from the snoring horde of teenage boys, Lee ran to the forest area, or the Deadheads as he called it. Upon reaching it, he plopped down in the grass, and started to think. Over the next hour, Lee planned out a method of setting Keepers and exploring whatever was outside of the Glade, which he decided to temporarily call the Outside. Something nagged at him, telling him that there was a reason that the doors closed, that something bad was out there. But he had to know _what_. As the Glade started to awake, Lee left the Deadheads and rejoined with the groggy Gladers. Thien and another Glader named Nolan set to work on preparing breakfast, and soon had served up a breakfast of bacon, eggs, and toast. Not every Glader could be given a generous helping, but all had a full stomach.

It also seemed that with the doors to the Outside closing, Gladers were a lot more willing to do work. Lee individually asked each and every Glader their skills and what they thought they could do most efficiently; A few boys were stubborn about it but the process was surprisingly easy, and he had assigned Keepers to the various jobs:

Rowan: An Irish boy with a short temper who had to be seventeen at least, Keeper of the Bricknicks.

Hunter: Keeper of the Track-Hoes.

Kit: Keeper of the Builders.

James: A friendly, patient blonde boy who was heavily freckled around the age of sixteen, Keeper of the Baggers.

Adam: Keeper of the Slicers.

Thien: Keeper of the Cooks.

Justin: Keeper of the Med-jacks.

Paul: A short, kind yet sensitive boy who walked with a heavy limp, Keeper of the Sloppers.

Lee: The to-be Keeper of the Runners.

By noon, the Glade was no more a place full of crying and helpless teenagers, but rather a little society, working. Understandably, a good portion of the Gladers weren't totally sure what they were doing. The Baggers, realizing that nobody was dying on day two, had taken up secondary jobs, something that Lee didn't expect them to do immediately. The three Baggers in the Glade all ended up working in the fields.

Lee didn't know what he was to do. He had decided not to explore the Outside until the day after tomorrow, so he found himself in the infirmary, helping Justin and Aaron, the two Med-jacks in the Glade, patch up one of the Builders, who had already sprained an ankle.

"How'd this even happen?" Justin asked.

"Fell," the Builder responded.

"Yeah, we know that, slinthead," replied Aaron with a laugh, "But how'd you fall?"

"I fell," he replied, a look of embarrassment on his face.

"Give it up," Lee said. "This shank was acting like a dumbo and then he fell."

"Bingo!" The Builder said, obviously embarrassed about how he got his injury.

Lee left the infirmary and found himself working in the gardens with Hunter. It was only then that Lee started to realize that Hunter was a very orderly person. All of the Track-Hoes were assigned different tasks for the day, and couldn't move on from that task; Most of the Track-Hoes worked in unison, with teamwork and coordination being the key to success in the gardens. Lee also noticed that the Track-Hoes seemed to do what they did well; Save for the Baggers, who were assigned to getting water for the plants and the thirsty Gladers, the lot of them were hard workers. Lee noticed something new as well: Signs of the Gladers' past lives. A few Track-Hoes had personal mementos and marking from before the Glade. Hunter had a small scar below his left eye; A Track-Hoe whose name was Jakob had a necklace that featured a small, white turtle; Another Track-Hoe whose name Lee already forgot kept retrieving a pocket watch to look at the time. Leaving the Track-Hoes, Lee went to check on the Builders. As expected, they were working hard. A couple were pitching more hammocks, presumably for the Keepers, Kit was overseeing the construction of the latrines, and Matthew had taken a few more Builders (The work force of the Builders had increased significantly) to work on a storage shed for the Track-Hoes. Lee noticed more signs of what were the Gladers' lives, as well: Kit had a beige cap on, with the letters 'CJ' stitched into them; Rowan, who had joined the Builders since nothing had been broken wore a worn, somewhat-tattered army jacket of sorts, and he also sported a scar on his neck. Seeing that the Builders were working heavily under Kit and Matthew's command, Lee returned to the Homestead, careful to avoid a medical tent being pitched by a few Builders, and found himself on a leather sofa. Feet aching from walking around all day and brain exhausted from lack of sleep, Lee found himself drifting off to sleep.

"Hey, sleepyhead," someone said, nudging Lee.

Lee mumbled something, groaning and opening his eyes slowly.

"Have a nice nap?" Thien asked, a slight smile on his face. In his hands was a wooden bowl and a spoon, with some sort of chowder in it.

"Yea, yeah," He replied, sitting up. "What's the time?"

"Around 7:30."

"We serve dinner pretty late."

"Nah, dinner was about an hour ago," he replied. "Let you get your beauty sleep."

"Why, thank you so very much."

Thien laughed a little. "Bon appétit, le shank," he said with a terrible French accent, and handed him the chowder. "Clam chowder. The good stuff." And with that, he started walking away. **  
**

"You mean the canned stuff?" Lee called after him. "Not exactly the good stuff!"

"Well, the canned type is the only clam chowder we have!" Thien replied, chuckling.

Lee devoured the food, and its heat warmed him to the core. It felt good as he hadn't eaten lunch and his breakfast was meager (He insisted that the other boys eat, much to Thien's annoyance as he wanted the Glade's leader to function on a full stomach), so he was famished. As he was eating, Kit and Rowan passed through the house.

"That is bloody disgusting ," Rowan commented, eying the chowder.

"Hey! It's good!" retorted Lee. "It's clam chowder. What did _you_ eat, then?"

"Tomato soup," Kit replied.

"I swear if you get the buggin' Black Death because of that klunk in a bowl, I'll rip ya to shreds. With what you're eatin', may the roads rise to meet you," Rowan said, and then continued through the Homestead. Kit, however, plopped down next to him.

"Rowan hates chowder, you know that?" he said. "Says he'll vomit up his lungs if he's served it."

Lee smiled. "I can tell. He implied that the chowder had the bubonic plague."

Kit laughed. "He's a strange one."

"You've got that right. Anyways, what did you and Matthew get done?"

"While you were having a nice lil nap, Matthew got a little shed for the Track-Hoes to keep their tools. He says he's gonna take Ross and Alex and continue working on it tomorrow."

Ross and Alex; If Lee corrected, they were the Gladers that joined Kit yesterday.

"We have an outhouse, thought it ain't much. We could extend the latrines and klunk, probably get a few more outhouses made, and I'm also thinkin' that we start devising a shower system. I've got a few ideas, but the thought of shanks stinkin' up a tub just isn't a good thing in my opinion, so showering would be the way to go."

"That's good," Lee replied. "How's the Glader that hurt his foot?"

"Oh, Cooper?" Kit asked. He laughed a little and said, "The stupid shank fell off the barn. He took an egg from the chickens and tried to egg one of the Slicers and fell off like an idiot."

The conversation was broken with the loud grinding of the Outside's doors closing. It was still loud, but noticeably quieter than last night.

"When are we going?" Kit asked, the lighthearted tone in his voice no longer present.

"Going where?" Lee asked.

"To the Outside," He replied. "You're the Keeper of the Runners and the leader of us all. When do you think you'll be heading out?"

"Tomorrow I'm training a few Gladers. There'll be eight Runners. Have anyone to suggest?"

Kit thought for a second. "Michael is a pretty fast runner, he's one of the Bricknicks. And then you've got Evan and Vex, they can run like the shuck wind. Haven't got anyone else in mind."

"Thanks, we'll start with those three."

"Sure thing, man," Kit said, getting up with a stretch. "Gotta go check up on Cooper. See you in the morning."

"See ya," Lee said.

And with that, Kit was gone. From outside, he could hear the mindless banter between Gladers and laughter. Feeling a wave of fatigue despite his nap, Lee let his head fall against the arm of the sofa.

 **oOo**

Vex didn't know how he got the pocket watch, but he knew that it was his or was in his family's. The watch was nice but weathered with age; He guessed it had been in his family's for awhile then, at least a few generations. He felt that wave of sadness rush over him for not remembering his family or his life before the Glade. His thoughts were interrupted by a little nudge. Vex rolled over, expecting to see a Glader that had rolled around in his sleep, but instead was greeted by Lee.

"Mornin'," Vex said, his voice still groggy in the early morning.

"Good morning," Lee replied, a smile on his face.

Vex sat up, dropping the watch in the pockets of his cargo pants. "Need anything?"

"Yes, I'll be needing something from you, and two other Gladers," Lee replied. "And I feel like you're not going to like it."

"Sure, anything, just name it. What are you needing?"

"For you to run the Outside."

* * *

 **Thanks for reading the first chapter of "The Other Ones!" I feel like this is somewhat-unique and hope you'll enjoy it! I've sped up some of the details in the story as I was sorta having some writer's block in the whole 'Gladers missing their past lives' dealio; I'll probably include more of that in later chapters. Also, if anyone would be so kind as to review Chapter One, I was wondering: Would you like to see more of the WICKED side of things during Group C's time? I could include little excerpts from Thomas, Teresa, and other WICKED employees monitoring the Gladers via Beetle Blades or just talking about them. I want to take a lot of ideas from the readers into this story, so just letting me know would be great.  
**

 **Also: If I keep to my current chapter limit thing (5,000 words excluding this little excerpt and a chunk of the WICKED email), I won't be able to post as much, but I'll try to stay to a solid schedule. I'm thinking of writing a few chapters ahead of time and updating this story every Monday and Friday; This is subject to change, however.**


	2. Chapter 2: Exploration

It was the fourth day in the Glade. 7:34 AM. Four athletic, backpack-toting Runners stood outside of the doors to the Outside, each one feeling butterflies in their stomach. Vex stood outside the North Door, running a nervous hand through his light-brown hair. Lee stood outside the West Door, trying to look strong for the other Runners and the Gladers. Michael stood outside the South Door, the lanky boy thinking digging through his brain for happy memories to ease his nervousness. Evan stood outside the East Door, trying to stay focused and telling himself that he would find the way out for the other Gladers who he had already taken a deep fondness to.

"SEVEN THIRTY-FIVE, BOYS!" Thien shouted from the Homestead. "Try not to die!"

The four Runners took off, quickly disappearing as they all rounded the corners of their specific doors. Vex rounded his corner, and then ran down another hallway, rounded another corner, and was met by two pathways after a short hallway: Left or right. The watch, his good luck charm, being in his left pocket, caused him to run to the left. He met a series of these pathways, each time going left. After about an hour of exploring the Outside, the Runner realized two things: The first was that there was no apparent or easy way of leaving the Glade. The second was that the Outside was a Maze. As he ran, this became more and more apparent. Sometimes he was greeted with three pathways or just long, twisting hallways. He felt a bit more uneasy, as he had a hunch that he was desperately lost. As he neared the third hour in the newly-named Maze, he couldn't help but wonder how the other Gladers were doing. Evan, Michael, and Lee came to mind, but also of the other Gladers. Feeling famished and exhausted, Vex dropped to to the ground, taking in huge gulps of air. He sat against a wall after a few minutes of panting, and dug through his pack for his lunch; He retrieved a turkey-and-cheese sandwich that Josh, one of the Cooks who had been nicknamed 'Dumbo' for his big ears, made for him. The bread was toasted and the cheese and turkey looked fresh; He wondered where he got the turkey from. Food had already been in the fridge according to Thien, so it made sense that there was some food ahead of time in there. As he wolfed down the sandwich, he started to hear noises. Shoving the rest of the sandwich into his mouth, Vex frantically dug around in his pack for a knife. Within seconds, he realized with dread that he didn't have one on him. He leapt to his feet, throwing on his backpack and checking both ends of the hallway.

 _Whirr, click click_.

It was at the end of the hallway that Vex hadn't yet explored. He took a cautious step back.

 _Whirrrrr, click click._

The unease turned to fear.

 _Whirrrrrrrrrrrrr,_ _click click._

He took a few steps back, ready to run.

The whirring was interrupted with a moan, like a soldier who had been just been bayoneted.

The thing rounded the corner, and Vex could only see the green whalish skin and the blade-like appendages before he took off running, horrified. The thing gave pursuit, the whirring and clicking come more and more often. He sprinted down the hallways, white-hot fear shooting through his veins. He felt a sharp jab in his leg, and faltered for a second, but then continued. After what seemed like thousands of years, the moaning and the clicking slowly started to fade. The slug-whale thing had stopped giving chase. As Vex slowed down, he just came to realize something spray-painted on the wall that he must have missed earlier:

 _ALL AT NIGHT_

 _SOME AT DAY_

Ignoring the wall's strange message, he fell to the ground, letting his backpack slide off of his shoulders. He dug through the pack for some bandages. Retrieving them, he rolled up his pant leg, and messily bandaged the wound. It was a slice, from some machete or blade; Vex shuttered as he realized that the thing could still be out there, maybe even coming after him. He stood up, realizing that the wound would need to be cleaned; Probably not stitched as the slice wasn't that deep, but definitely cleaned.

Declaring his day over, Vex threw on his pack and started to half-run, half-hobble back the way he came. The wound probably wouldn't leave him with a permanent limp, like the one Paul had.

But it sure hurt.

 **oOo**

There was a light knock at the door.

"Come in!" Justin called.

The door opened, revealing Lee.

"How is he?" The leader of the Glade asked.

"We put some food in his stomach, and patched up that wound. Whatever it was, it got him pretty good. He'll need a day or two of bed rest until he's fit to go running."

Vex was sound asleep, having drifted off on a full stomach of chicken and mashed potatoes.

"Learn anything about the Outside?" Aaron asked, checking Vex's pulse, concerned about the Runner.

"Well, the Outside is this huge Maze. Not sure what Vex told you, but there's twists and turns and a lot of those 'WICKED' signs plastered everywhere. Michael and Evan report the same. What did he tell you?" Lee replied, nodding towards the sleeping Runner.

"He said that he had just been running and this green slug with a bunch of blades and syringes stickin' out of it. He managed to outrun it but it sliced his leg. He also said there was a sign that read "All at night, some at day," but he wasn't sure what it meant."

Lee shivered. "Shuckin' weird. Maybe the sign was referring to whatever attacked him, or maybe the Maze has a schedule. Who knows?"

"I think we know why those doors close," Aaron muttered, glancing briefly at Vex's bandaged leg.

Lee heard a confused mumble from Vex, and the Runner's eyes flickered open.

"Hey, shank," Lee greeted affectionately.

"L...Lee," Vex mumbled. "The Outside's, like, a shuck Maze, man."

"Yeah, I know. What happened to you?"

Vex shook out of sleepiness. "Not sure, it was just really big. Probably weighed a ton. Looked like a slug. Moved pretty fast. It's skin was, like, whalish and klunk. It had all these weird... shuckin' machetes and blades and even like a syringe. It moaned, like someone was trapped in there." Vex's eyes were as large as golf balls now. Whatever it was, it had terrified him.

Lee reached over and gave him a pat on the shoulder. "They can't hurt us in the Glade, but none of us saw these Grievers. Maybe they come out at night, or they're just really, really rare. We'll look into it, and from now on all Runners will be outfitted with weapons. A machete and two knives. Granted we have the supplies for that; I doubt we do. Pretty shuck sure that we get supplies every week, so maybe there's some blades there." He quickly followed that up with, "Take care, Vex," and left the Homestead.

Lee's watch read 6:05. He had come through the West Door at 6 sharp, estimating that the Maze Doors closed at 7:35 PM; He wanted to get back an hour and a half early, just for good measure. Michael and Evan had already arrived, and were chatting with each other. They reported that the Outside was a Maze, and that Vex had arrived home early due to some leg injury. Both seemed nonchalant, and assured him that the two had already checked on him twice and that he was fine. Lee still had the urge to check on him. His goals completed for the day, Lee decided to take a walk around the Glade. He checked out what the Builders had been doing. Matthew had been true to his word, and the rundown shed that once held the Track-Hoes' tools had been expanded to fit gloves, seeds, and heavy bags of fertilizer. Kit had made another outhouse, but he had also started construction on a small building. Obviously serving as some sort of shower, it had yet to even be finished, but clear signs of progress had been made. The Track-Hoes, still working hard in the fields, had expanded the gardens a little. Hunter gave him a little wave, as did a couple other Track-Hoes.

"Hey! Lee!" One of the Track-Hoes, Marko, called out. "When's dinner?"

"Dinner?" Lee asked. "Thought you already had it."

"Nah, Thien hasn't fed us jack yet," another Track-Hoe laughed. "I think I'm gonna go eat Hunter if I don't get some food."

"If you try to eat me I swear I'll kill you with a shovel," Hunter replied.

There was a chorus of laughter as the banter continued. After sticking around for a few minutes, he decided to head back to the Homestead. A couple of exhausted Gladers waved to him, asking him how the run was. Due to Michael and Evan, most everyone already had learned by now that the Glade was surrounded by a Maze.

Lee opened the creaky door of the Homestead, and joined Thien in the kitchen.

"Hey Lee," Thien greeted. "Dinner's in a few. Dumbo here suggested we have spaghetti, so if it sucks he's to blame."

"Hey!" Dumbo yelled, hitting Thien with a rag. "You're the slinthead who can't even properly make a sandwich!"

" _I can too_!" Thien retorted. "Anyways, dinner's ready. Call in the army."

Dumbo took a bell and started ringing it, yelling something about feeding pigs. Within a minute, the entire Glade was in the Homestead, lining up for spaghetti. Lee took two plates and gave one to Vex, who was reading a book on medicine.

"Good reading material?" Lee asked, setting down the plate.

"Oh? This? Well, I mean, if I ever get a heart attack in the Maze, I'm good." He paused. "This is so shucking boring, Lee. My butt hurts from just sitting here."

"Don't worry, shank," Lee reassured. "Well have you running in a day or two."

"Yippee," Vex complained, his voice deadpan.

Lee ate his spaghetti and handed the plate back to Dumbo, who happily took it. As Lee went to his continued resting spot on the leather sofa, he encountered Matthew running away from Rowan, who had a huge sauce stain on his jacket. Lee chuckled to himself, knowing Rowan wouldn't actually harm the careless Builder, and sat on the sofa. A breeze from a nearby window relaxed him, and Lee kicked off his boots. His feet aching from exhaustion more than before, he drifted off into sleep easily.

 **oOo**

"Hold the buggin' board down," Rowan ordered Joey, another Bricknick.

"I'm trying to," Joey replied. "I wish that shuck idiot Ross hadn't taken a sledgehammer to the shuck tool shed."

"Such a bloody shame, after one day! One bloody day and the idiot breaks it! Who gives that klunkhead a sledgehammer, anyways! Kit and Matthew are much stronger, not that buggin' shank!"

Joey nodded in agreement as Rowan hammered the nails into the board.

"There, patched up right and nice," he beamed.

"Good as new! Except, not really, because now there's a bunch of boards in it."

"Rowan! Got your jacket!" Paul shouted, limping across the Glade, his army jacket in hand. Rowan took off sprinting, and took the jacket from his hands as soon as he reached him. He slid it over his beige T-shirt, relieved to feel the warmth of the jacket once more.

"Nice buggin' work there, Paul!" Rowan almost yelled, ecstatically giving the freckled Glader a high-five. Paul grinned from ear to ear, wandering off to finish his Slopper duties.

Joey and a few other Bricknicks came to meet the Irish Keeper.

"What now?" asked Miles, one of the other Bricknicks. "We've patched up Ross's little mistake and so far the Builders haven't broken anything but their own bones so far."

"Good work, lads!" Boomed Rowan, turning to face the other Gladers. "You're relieved of Bricknick duty for the rest of the day I'd advise helping the Track-Hoes and aiding the Builders; They could use a great deal of help. I have some important business to attend to, I'll join you in a moment."

Joey, who had already grown close to the Keeper, snorted, knowing that Rowan intended to just go eat a bunch of Thien's food, but they complied, and the Bricknicks dispersed. Rowan turned and headed to the Homestead. He entered the door, careful not to crash into Matthew, who was sprinting through the Homestead, rope wrapped around his waist. He stopped by the kitchen where one of the shorter Cooks (What was his name? Bruno?) immediately tossed him a granola bar; The Cooks had already grown accustomed to Rowan's desire of food at random parts of the day. He then visited the infirmary, where Vex, the Track-Hoe-turned-Runner was still healing from that nasty gash and where Cooper lay, propped up in bed.

"How much longer will this buckethead be cooped in buggin' bed for?" Rowan asked Justin.

"Not much longer, you'll have him back by tomorrow at a guess," Justin replied, who currently was reading the label of a bottle of pills.

"I'm a Builder, though," Cooper argued.

"Bricknicks and Builders are virtually the same thing," Rowan retorted. "Just one fixes up after the other klunks up."

Cooper laughed dryly. "That's not true, but whatever floats your boat, man."

Rowan was about to leave when he heard a shriek and a loud *bang* rock the Homestead. Rowan, fearing the worst, darted through the Homestead, Aaron and Justin at his heels. They came to the Builders, where one was bleeding heavily, a mixture of glass and wood in his face and chest.

"What the shuck happened here?" Justin asked, leaning down to pick out the shards and splinters.

"Ross shucked up again," Kit replied. "Tried to hammer a nail on a window. Hammered the _actual_ window."

"We can fix him up right here," Justin said.

"Clear some buggin' breathing room, you shanks!" Rowan shouted.

The Gladers complied, backing up to let the Med-jacks operate on the wounded Builder.

 **oOo**

Vex found himself up early again, and his hands found themselves the pocketwatch. He now owed this pocketwatch his life; Why he had it, he had no idea, but without the watch, he surely would have gotten lost and died out there in the Maze with those slug-whales: Lee had taken to calling them Grievers. A new Runner, Franklin, had taken to running Vex's door. Franklin was a patient boy with a crew cut and Lee had told him that he and Franklin would be running the same section of the Maze. The door creaked open, and the four Runners stood in the doorway.

"Rise 'n shine, shank," Lee said.

The other Runners piled in, giving Vex high-fives and 'Hi's and asking him how he felt. Feeling better than a few days ago, Vex got out of bed, still dressed in his Runner gear. He slipped on his running shoes, which lay at the foot of his bed, and followed the group of Runners outside. After eating a hasty breakfast prepared by Dumbo and Bruno (Thien was still fast asleep; He was a heavy sleeper) and packing turkey sandwiches with a few apples, the Runners were already off, exploring the Maze.

The five boys were nervous as they ran deeper and deeper into the Maze. Vex and Franklin soon separated, and the other three didn't even have another Runner in their section in the first place. And as Vex ran deeper into the Maze, he came to a shocking conclusion.

It hadn't happened the day before, but it happened now.

The Maze had _changed._

Unfortunately, there was absolutely no way to communicate with the other Runners and the Gladers working back home. No radios, no, like, satellites or telepathy or anything like that; Vex wondered if the other Runners had come across changes in the Maze too. They had to have. As he ran, continuing his previous strategy of turning left at any change he could get, he started to feel a bit unnerved. He was all alone, at least a good few miles out from the Glade. He was armed only with a kitchen knife, which would be near useless if we wanted to defend himself from those...Grievers. As noon approached, Vex slowed down, the unease refusing to fade. He stopped, and fell to his knees, panting heavily, trying to get the air back in his lungs. After a moment, he set the backpack down and started to rifle through its content for food. He found a bottle of ice-cold water, refrigerated by Thien the night before, a green apple, and a tinfoil-wrapped ham sandwich. Feeling starved, he devoured the green apple within a few minutes and then set on to the sandwich, taking huge bites. The unease faded quickly, and within five minutes of starting his lunch he was up and running. While running, he also decided to map the Maze with some charcoal (They had no pens or pencils), but it was still heavily incomplete as he didn't have access to the other sections (The other Runners reported two sections per Maze; Vex's section was the only one that had two Runners in it.

Vex turned around at 2, and took four and a half hours running back. He was surprised at his own stamina; He didn't think he had it in him to just run around like a slinthead all day. He came through the doors just as dinner was being called out. Exhausted, he collapsed on the grass, trying to get air back in his body. Dumbo ran up to him, and the sixteen-year-old gave the Runner a jar of water and dinner: Chicken. Vex propped himself up on one elbow, and started to shove the pieces of chicken into his mouth; It was unbelievably good compared to the battered sandwich he ate earlier in the Maze. After eating his dinner and chugging the jar of water, he handed it back to Dumbo, who was sitting patiently, and darted to the concrete room, which Lee had taken to calling the Map Room, and dropped the paper map he had. He ignored the other Gladers, feeling beyond exhausted (He had just been loafing around the past few days), and collapsed onto a hammock. Adam walked past, and got into the hammock next to him with a grunt.

"Nice one on the dinner, Adam," Vex said.

"Oh, thanks," Adam replied, his voice revealing his exhaustion. "That shuckin' chicken put up a fight. Scratched the hell out of Spencer."

Adam was, of course, referring to another Slicer. Vex didn't know him personally. He felt guilty for some reason; He made it a personal goal to talk to and get to know every Glader. Everyone.

He fell asleep trying to name every Glader he knew.

* * *

 **Hello! Thanks for reading! I've already written this one ahead of time so if you reviewed Chapter One, I wouldn't have had time to incorporate it into this chapter, but thanks anyways! So I didn't use a WICKED observation thing or anything from WICKED concerning Group C, but I will next chapter (Probably)! Tell me what you think, and remember that leaving a review means the world!  
**

 **-LI**


	3. Chapter 3: Supplies and WICKED

This chapter's pretty short. Sort of a filler.

* * *

The entire Glade stood over the Box.

After a moment, someone asked, "Well, the shuck do we do?"

"Shucked if I know," Another replied.

"Well, ya bloody shuckheads, we _take it_ ," Rowan replied, pushing his way through the crowd.

Just minutes earlier, a blaring alarm had sounded throughout the Glade, and the Box had come back up after a week. It didn't take long for people to figure out that the Creators had sent them aid.

"Well, yeah, but like, what if it explodes?" Dumbo asked.

Rowan shot Dumbo a funny look. "Bloody _explodes_?"

"I mean, yeah. Because, like, the Creators could've rigged that klunk with bombs?"

"Why the shuck would they rig the shucking supplies with explosives?" Thien asked, giving Dumbo a light smack on the head.

"Just sayin'," He sheepishly replied.

Rowan decided to disagree with Dumbo's little explosive theory, and hopped into the box, landing in the Box with a _thud_ ; Nothing exploded. Soon after, Justin, Adam, and another Glader, Marcus, hopped in, and started to take the supplies sent up by the Creators. Dumbo and a few others helped sort through the supplies. A few bags of fertilizer, some new clothes, a couple of sewing kits, some greatly-needed tools for the Builders and Track-Hoes, a couple pairs of running shoes, a huge jug of water (It took the combined efforts of Marcus, Rowen, and Kit, who were among the strongest in the Glade, to lift it), some food, medical supplies, a small bit of building supplies, and a few more injectors of the Grief Serum. Thien and Justin both commented how drastically different the supplies were from last week; the supplies from the Creators prior were primarily canned food, water, and tools, with a backpack or two of medical supplies. A few Gladers had stuck around to help with distributing and carrying the supplies but the majority of the Glade's human inhabitants had already wandered off, some confused, a few indifferent, and many already developing conspiracies, returning to their work. Thien, who had been made the second-in-command of the Glade by Lee, decided to stash most of the supplies they had in the Map Room for later, save for giving a few hammers out to the Builders. It was around noon, and the Gladers were just finishing a meal of mashed potatoes and beef made by the Cooks when the alarm started blaring. It had startled almost everyone, and a couple even choked on their food.

By now, Thien realized one thing: If the note Lee found was accurate, and so far it was, that meant that in a few weeks' time, they would be getting a new Glader.

* * *

"They're starting to figure it out," Thomas said.

"Yes, they are," Ava Paige agreed. "This group, it is advanced, for lack of a better word. They trusted Subject C-1 almost immediately and they've already developed running patterns; I should also add that they have already added a water filtration system for hygiene purposes , and the sections of the Maze have been figured out by Subjects C-4 and C-8, Vex and Franklin respectively."

"Amazing, isn't it?" asked Johnathan, the inventor of the Beetle Blade (And one of the few friendly faces at WICKED), leaning back in his swivel chair. He controlled the Beetle Blade with a small white plastic ball, but it also could be moved around with a keyboard, albeit much more clumsy.

"Yeah," Teresa replied. "And there haven't been any casualties yet. Group A has already lost a subject. Subject A-28. George. Group B hasn't lost anyone yet, either."

The room they were standing in was spacious yet only the four WICKED employees were in it. The screen used by WICKED employees to spy on the Gladers took up a good portion of a wall, yet only one Beetle Blade cam was on the screen. Johnathan had controlled the Beetle Blade to scamper up a tree, and a good portion of the Glade could be seen. In the fields, the farmers (What did they call them? Track-Hoes?) were working hard, yet a couple tossed around banter; Thomas couldn't hear them, but he could just assume. Out near the house, or the Homestead, or whatever, the Builders had made significant progress: A shower system had been devised somehow; A medical tent had also been pitched and there were two tool sheds made, each one surprisingly high-quality for a bunch of boys that had their memories wiped. From the corner of the screen, Vex and Franklin (C-4 and C-8) came sprinting through the North Door. Thomas watched in amazement as the boys kept sprinting, never once faltering as they reached the small concrete building known as the Map Room. Subjects C-1 (Lee), C-7 (Evan), and C-20 (Michael) all came darting through the Maze not long after.

"I've faith in them," Johnathan observed.

"Don't we all," Thomas replied. "Let's just hope they don't die. That would be bad."

"Well, _that_ would be very bad for the killzone patterns," Ava replied, a small smile on her face. Not really a joke, but it was something.

Johnathan tapped a few keys into his keyboard and the camera switched to that of another Beetle Blade, this one near the builders.

"Johnathan, I'd love to see that shower design," Teresa said. "Think you could get us a better view.

"Hey there, little guy!" someone greeted. Johnathan spun the Beetle Blade around to face a tall, brown-haired boy.

"Who's that?" Teresa asked.

"Subject C-3. Christopher. Kit, they call him," Thomas quickly responded.

The boy, Kit, knelt down to get a better look at the Blade.

"How are ya?" Kit asked, a warm smile on his face. Although Thomas wasn't physically with this Glader, he could sense how genuine the smile was.

"Kit, for shuck's sake, stop talking to the Beetle Blade!" someone yelled.

Kit looked away from the Blade. "Cooper, stop trying to egg the Slicers."

Someone laughed; Thomas didn't get it. Kit turned to the Beetle Blade, held out a hand, beckoning the Glader onto his arm.

"Chancellor Paige, Thomas, Teresa?" Johnathan asked. "What do you think?"

"I'd really like to see those showers," Ava replied.

Johnathan complied and the Beetle Blade scurried off. Thomas could hear a disappointed sigh behind the Beetle Blade.

* * *

"We're gonna need map-makers," Lee said.

"Map-what?" Michael asked.

"Map-makers," Lee replied. "We need people to piece together what we map. We're klunk at it; Shuck, Evan has the writing skills of a drunken skunk."

Evan lightly punched him on the shoulder. "Better than you, stupid shuck," He mumbled.

"I'm creating a new occupation. Map-maker. Not a permanent one. Like, an on-and-off one. Let me break this down: One day, Map-Makers will piece together our fragments of the Maze and then they'll complete a full map for each Door. Four Doors. Four maps a day."

"Well, yeah, but there's a flaw in this," Vex spoke up. "You neglected the fact that one Runner can't run a whole Door's worth of Maze in a day; He runs one section a day. The only Door with two runners per section is the North Door, and Franklin and I run it. We need more Runners. Three more, for this plan to work."

"That's right," Lee replied. "We'll need three Runners. I've already prepped about four boys for backup Running in case something bad happens, like it did to you, Vex. They aren't fully trained, but then again, neither are we."

"So that's it, then?" Michael asked. "Just boom, three Runners? Running ain't easy. As evidenced by the creepy klunk Vex has seen, you gotta have some skills; Having a bunch of air in your lungs just isn't it. You've gotta be smart, to run miles and miles on end and then find your way back. Timing and memory is key. If you feel like these three Gladers have got that, then, by all means, welcome them aboard."

"Don't worry, I've got that all figured out. The four will be running tomorrow."

"Four?" Vex asked. "We need three."

Lee smiled. "As evidenced by the supplies coming up, I'll need to stick around. Who's gonna run this place while I'm out? Thien? Kit? Rowan? Even Adam? Nah. I've got to. And we're expecting a Greenie in a few weeks, ya know. Ain't that gonna blow some? I'm gonna have to run the Glade. I'm the leader. The new Runners' names are Kendrick, Felix, Wes and Jackson. They shouldn't be too far. Meet up with them. Oh, and one more thing."

"What's that?" Michael asked.

"We need a Keeper of the Runners. Vex, that'll be you."

And then Lee left the Map Room without another word.

* * *

 **Hey there! Sorry if this chapter's a bit short, this was just sort of a filler. I'm thinking of doing a few more chapters getting the Glade set up and then skipping ahead to the date of the Trigger aka the two-year mark. I had heavy testing today so I'm fried, which is why I'm thinking of just uploading this and then resting up for the rest of the day. I was able to re-read a good part of the Maze Runner, starting with *Spoilers* Thomas in the Maze and ending with the Gladers attacking the Grievers, so I know a great bit more about the Trigger and the events following that. Review and rate please!**


	4. Chapter 4: Pricked

I'm thinking that I want to only continue this Glade until it's thoroughly set up, and I think it's set up well enough. After this chapter, I might go ahead with the timeskip.

* * *

WICKED Memorandum

Date 230.1.10, Time 09:38

TO: My Associates

FROM: Ava Paige, Chancellor

RE: THOUGHTS ON MAZE TRIALS, Groups A, B, and C

The Maze Trials have been going splendidly. Group A shows the highest advancement in terms of communication, Group B shows the highest advancement in terms of planning and leadership skills, and Group C shows the highest advancement in technological skills (They already have latrines and a shower system via water filtration) and would have shown the highest leadership skills if it hadn't been for Group B.

No casualties have been had in Groups B and C, yet, as you all know, Group A has already lost one subject. Touching up more on Group C, it was almost startling to see how quickly they got to work. Many of them were working by the third day and this is exclusive to Group C. Subject C-3, Christopher, and Subject A-49, Matthew, both are architectural geniuses. Subject A-4, Rowen, Keeper of the Bricknicks, has also succeeded in his line of work: Although Rowen's work force is only four, including himself, he has aided the Builders in their projects and has also repaired everything that could possibly be repaired in the Glade.

These groups have and still continue to impress us. Only time will tell, however, if their killzones are truly appropriate for the Trials.

WICKED is good.

* * *

" _Get some shuck bandages_!" Aaron yelled.

"I've got them, I've got them," Justin replied, his voice shaky.

"Will be be okay?" Vex asked, his voice a squeak.

Justin sighed. "I...I don't know. _Get Lee_!"

Vex nodded and sprinted out of the medical tent. Justin turned to focus on the task at hand: Fixing Franklin. The right side of Franklin's face was coated with blood, his shirt was soaked with blood, his jeans torn and bloodied. Aaron had set to work on his face, rubbing away the blood with some bandages, but only for the blood to seep out of the wound again

"Head wound," Aaron said almost instantly. "Not sure what from. He might have a concussion. We need to bandage it, we'll clean it later."

Justin nodded, pulling a pair of scissors from his pocket. He gently lifted Franklin's T-shirt, and then started to cut at it. After cutting away the T-shirt, he almost vomited. Franklin's torso was shucked, to say the least. Reaching for one of the cotton bandages, he started to try to cover the small wounds, ignoring the slashes in his chest from presumably a blade.

"W-What happened?" Lee asked, appearing from behind the Med-jacks.

"Vex said he found him like this," Aaron replied, who was wrapping a bandage around Franklin's head. "Griever."

"Aaron, I need to stitch these wounds," Justin said. "You took inventory of the medical supplies. What do we have?"

Aaron's face was grim. He dug into his pocket, and pulled out a sewing kit. "All we have," he replied, and moved to Franklin's leg.

"What color would you like?" Justin asked an unconscious Franklin. "Oh well, I guess black will have to do."

Carefully, Justin started to sew the slash in Franklin's chest; The rubbing alcohol was nowhere to be seen. All he could do was hope that Franklin remained unconscious. Very tenderly he started to sew the wound; This was a ticking bomb. Trying his best to keep his hand steady, Justin kept sewing. Almost done.

"How's his leg?" Justin asked, not looking away from the mutilated Glader's chest.

"Not too bad. A couple cuts and a nasty gash," he replied.

"Get to work on that nasty gash."

"I've cleaned it with some of the new antiseptic and bandaged it. How's his chest?"

"Shucked," Justin replied, his tone revealing that he didn't want to elaborate.

Done. The wound had been sewed, but he was still heavily bleeding in others cuts. And there wasn't a shuck way to tell if he was bleeding internally. Justin wiped away the blood, and somehow managed to bandage the gash.

"Do you think he'll live?" asked Lee.

"We did all we could," Aaron replied. "We've stopped most of the bleeding and cleaned the worst of his wounds but only time can tell if he'll live."

Franklin mumbled something.

"Oh, shuck," Justin muttered.

Franklin's eyes shot open. They were bloodshot.

"Whoa, Franklin, you okay, man?" Lee asked.

"Of course he's not shucking okay, he just mutilated," Justin spat.

Franklin opened his mouth but no words came out.

"What's wrong with him?" Lee asked.

"I don't know. I've checked over the-"

A bloodcurdling scream emitted from Franklin's mouth. And then another. And another. And another. Franklin was about to screech again when he went stiff, mumbled something, and then passed out.

"What happened?" Lee asked.

Aaron pulled out the auto-injector that was the Grief Serum from Franklin's side.

 **o0o**

All the Keepers sat in chairs in the soundproofed Map Room. By Lee's request, two Baggers had been placed outside to guard their improvised conference room from any curious Gladers.

"What do you think we do?" Hunter asked.

"I'm not sure," Lee replied. "Sorta the whole point of this meeting, y'know?"

"I'm thinking," James started, "That we keep him monitored at all times. Either Aaron or Justin should take care of him and we should move him from the tent into one of the two infirmary rooms. Each infirmary room is big enough for two people, so if we move him into the empty room, you'll still have three more spaces for the wounded: The infirmary room and the tent. We should also post a guard by his room, so if he goes bozo there'll be two people to hold him down."

A loud shriek emitted from outside.

"I agree," Paul said. "But who would we task with the purpose of just standing outside a room all day?"

"Glenn," James replied. "He likes to guard people, not things. Didn't really get into it for the bagging of corpses; Neither did I. He'd be perfect for protecting Frankie."

"Alright, so say we post this guard, Glenn, outside, and we put, let's say, Aaron to watch him at all times. What if he _does_ go bozo?" Adam asked.

"Knock him out," Lee answered sternly. "Nobody will be killed."

"Yeah, but what if he takes a knife or something served to him for dinner?" Adam pushed. He quickly followed that up with, "If he can even eat."

"Bloody knock the loonie out," Rowan replied. Rowan then looked at Justin, who had been quiet. "What's buggin' wrong with the poor shank, Jus?" He asked softly, his voice filled with concern.

Justin took a deep breath. "Aaron's in there checking up on him. The Griever...pricked him with a syringe of sorts. We're not too sure what's causing this screaming, but right before this...gathering, Aaron showed me something: Be it the Grief Serum or whatever was in that syringe, it caused these, like, green, rope-like veins to pop out all over his skin. I think it was caused by the Griever, but Aaron thinks the Serum caused it."

"We need to protect that buggin' klunk," Rowan said. "It's our most valuable resource. James, have any spare Baggers?"

"We number only three, two now if Glenn's gonna protect Frank. I'll develop a shift system: Benji will guard the Serum from the wake-up till two in the afternoon, and then after that I'll switch off with him until eight. That is a super valuable resource."

The gathering of Keepers soon came to a close: The Baggers would be tasked with guarding the Grief Serum and Franklin, and from now on, all Runners would be required to carry at least one blade; They were supposed to when Vex was cut, but now it was really the meeting dispersed, James walked up to Benji and Glenn, who were walking away from the dispersing Keepers.

"Glenn, Benji," James greeted.

"Hey, man," Glenn greeted back. Sporting a thick head of strawberry-blonde hair and bright green eyes, Glenn was one of, if not the, friendliest faces in the Glade.

"What's up?" Benji asked, looking cheerful.

"I'm gonna have to ask a favor of you," James said.

"Sure, man. Anything," Glenn replied.

"So, you know Franklin, right?"

"Yeah, the poor shank who got shucked up in the Maze?" Glenn clarified.

"Yeah, that would be him," James replied. "Anyways, the Med-jacks got this weird auto-injector. It's called the Grief Serum. Frank started screaming so Aaron injected him with it.

"Lot of good that did him, huh," Benji said, flinching a little as Franklin let out another shriek from inside the Homestead.

"Anyways, that stuff saved him. I know it doesn't sound like it, but odds are whatever was in the Grief Serum is gonna fight whatever was in that Griever. And we need to keep both Frank and the Grief Serum under lock and key, yeah?"

"So we're gonna protect them?" Glenn asked.

"You got it."

Benji looked confused. "Couldn't we just...bury the Grief Serum? And dig it out when we needed it?"

"We could, but something tells me that we'll need it fast. So, starting now, you both are relieved of walking around the Glade. Instead, you'll have to guard Frank while he's recovering and then we'll need to guard the Grief Serum. We'll put the Grief Serum in the tool shed so you won't _just_ be guarding one item. Glenn, I was wondering if you'd look after Frank while he's healing?"

"On it," Glenn replied instantly before taking off towards the Homestead, an improvised spear clutched in his hand.

"So," Benji said. "Guessing I'll be guarding the Grief Serum and the other klunk? I'll be glad to, don't worry. Anything to keep us all safe."

"Good that you're thinkin' that, but we'll both be taking shifts. You'll go from the wake-up till two in the afternoon, then I'll go from two to nine or ten. When Frank recovers, and he will recover, Glenn will take a shift. I'm not sure why we're guarding it, probably just to make sure that it doesn't get misplaced, but we have to. Thien and Justin keep theorizing that we'll be getting new people every month; Maybe one of 'em will want to be a Bagger. If that's the case, then our shifts will be so much more manageable."

"Well, I'm guessing it's around ten or eleven."

James glanced at his watch. "Ten-fifteen."

Benji nodded. "I'll put the Grief Serum in a small box or a pouch or something and stow it away in the tool shed. You can count on me."

James smiled. "I know I can."

 **o0o**

Benji shuddered as another one of Franklin's screams echoed through the Glade. Every now and then, when Franklin screamed, a Glader around him would drop something they were carrying, only to pick it up and quickly continue his work. The Grievers had once scared the Gladers, but now, with what happened to poor Franklin, they _terrified_ the Gladers, Benji included. He clutched a long, slender machete in his hand, determined to keep the Grief Serum safe.

"Hey, Benji," greeted Rowan with a perky smile.

"Hey, Rowan," Benji replied, rubbing his eyes. "I'm tired, man."

Rowan leaned against the door of the tool shed. "I feel ya, man. Haven't gotten a buggin' good nights sleep since ages, it feels."

Benji dryly chucked. "Well, you're a Keeper. Gotta get your beauty sleep."

Rowan laughed. "Duly noted."

They sat there in silence for a bit, taking in the whole hubbub of the bustling Glade. Not too far from their spot, the Builders and the Bricknicks worked together on another outhouse. Ross, whose face was bandaged, was along them, taking the banter from Joey, Matthew, Kit, and the others like a champ.

"I hate this place," Rowan said bitterly.

"Hate it? I find it nice. Peaceful. Well, not with the whole Grievers and klunk, but I like it here."

"Yeah, I should have bloody reworded my statement 'ere. I don't hate this place, it's not bad, but I hate the bit about our memories. Like, I can't bloody remember a thing."

Benji felt a pang of sadness at the realization that he too couldn't remember his family. "I feel ya, man. Sucks, too. I think I used to be in a pretty cool family. Two brothers and a sister."

Rowan spat something out of his mouth. "I think you only have one brother; A little one. Real brat he is, I bet."

Benji smiled to himself. "What are you eating?"

"Well, I'm not really eating it, per say, but let's just say I found a few bags of sunflower seeds."

Benji sighed. "I'd tell you to go give that to Hunter but I'm too lazy."

"Nah, mate, these are like the ones you pop in your mouth and spit out. You'd find these in, like, a supermarket or somethin'."

"Whatever you say, shank."

Rowan reached into his pocket, retrieving a silver flask. "Don't worry," he said, "Just water."

"That come up in the Box or was it on you?"

"It was on me," he replied. "It was in one of the jacket pockets."

"Seems most people have mementos of their past lives," he observed. "I've got the jacket, the flask, the scar on the back of my neck, Jakob has that necklace of his, Vex has the stopwatch, Kit has that cap. What do you have?"

Benji dug into his pocket and pulled out a gold coin. One on side, there was a woman holding a torch. The other side depicted several soldiers struggling to raise a flag. "This," he said, "Is what I have. I don't really know who this lady is, what flag that is, or who those soldiers are. All I know is that these belong to me."

"You keep that safe, Benji," Rowan said. "You hear me, shank? Guard that bloody klunk with your life; It's all you've bloody got to remind you of whatever you were before this mess. It's all we have here. Food, water, weapons, they don't matter. We don't have our memories. Most all of us have something that marks what we were; We need to grasp onto that. You hear me, yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Good that," Rowan replied, running a hand through his light, curly red hair, and then darted off.

"Good that," Benji said to himself, and slipped the coin back in his pocket.

* * *

 **Hey! I'd like to thank you for reading and possibly reviewing! Sorry I couldn't get this out on time, I had a bunch of tests and I was either studying or exhausted. Anyways, I'm thinking of skipping right to the Trigger, as writing about the Glade life for a bunch of chapters just isn't my thing. The Glade is probably my favorite setting in all of The Maze Runner, yet it can be boring, just writing about it. I hope you understand, and I'll see you next chapter!**

 **-LI**


	5. Chapter 5: Year Two

Teresa stood in the room alone with Johnathan; Thomas had just been sent to Group A's Glade. Being unable to bear the sight of a confused, dazed Thomas wandering around, she retreated to the only Glade that had no Trigger subjects, no Aris, no Rachel, and no Thomas: Group C's home. Over two years, they had remained beyond determined, and they lost fourteen precious lives along the way. She still remembered the names of the subjects that died, but didn't want to think about how they were killed. How they were killed by _her_.

"I wonder how they'll react to the rest of the Trials," pondered Johnathan, whose Beetle Blade was currently up in a tree; It was watching one boy relax in a tree, basket of apples in his lap, and another boy trying to get him to come down.

"Pretty well, I guess," Teresa responded, her voice deadpan. She didn't care about crap, didn't care about if they survived. She read their files. She knew what happened to all of them. Knew how their families died or were infected or _worse_.

 _She had watched fourteen boys be brought into WICKED's headquarters, into the Glade, only to just die.  
_

Tears streamed down Teresa's face as she ran out of the room.

* * *

His new world started in an elevator.

Or, at least he thought it was an elevator.

Dim lights surrounded the elevator as it rocketed skywards at a dangerously unsafe level. Ear-piercing sounds of cranks against cranks, pulleys against pulleys echoed throughout the elevator. In the little light that he could take in, he saw that he was clad in an olive drab T-shirt, near soaked with sweat, cargo pants, and faded grey sneakers.

A mixture of fear and paranoia swept through him as he realized that he didn't where he was or how he got in this elevator. He tried to remember anything, but the only things that came up were things about how Galileo created the telescope or how giraffes had long necks. Facts, but nothing personal. No family, no friends, no life. He could only remember one thing about himself: His name.

 _Adrian._

The elevator came to a sudden stop, causing Adrian to yelp.

And then, to Adrian's horror, the hatch to the elevator slowly opened. Light flooded the elevator, causing Adrian to squeeze his eyes shut.

"Wow," someone muttered.

"This our shuckin' year two Greenbean?" another asked.

"He looks like a mix between a pig and a Griever."

"Hey, ease off the bloody klunkhead," said another.

Someone with a high-pitched voice laughed. "You been hangin' around Glenn, huh, Rowan?"

"Paul, shut your shuckin' hole before I take a frying pan to it."

"Enough!" someone barked.

Adrian lowered his hand from the blinding sun to see a group of sixty or so boys, none over nineteen, standing around him. He felt only a bit soothed at the sight of teenagers, and not men. A tall, redheaded boy jumped into the elevator, causing Adrian to flinch a bit.

"Hey, Greenie," the redheaded boy said. "Nice to meet ya. Welcome to the Glade."

"The...Glade?" Adrian croaked; He hadn't realized how thirsty he was. "Is this where I am?"

"I'll tell ya more later, on the tour," the redheaded boy. He extended a hand. "I'm Lee. I lead these shanks."

 _Shank. Glade. Greenie. Greenbean. Shuck. Klunkhead. Griever._ None of those words made sense. Adrian took Lee's hand, felt himself get pulled up. Lee climbed out of the elevator, where he and another curly-haired boy that had some sort of medical patch around his arm helped him up.

"What's your name, anyways, Greenie?" the boy with the patch asked.

"A...Adrian," Adrian replied, still in a daze. "My name is Adrian."

"Nice to meet ya, Adrian," the boy said with a grin. "I'm Justin."

"Which Keeper do you think this klunk is gonna get?" snorted a short, freckled boy.

"Paul, you're Keeper of the Sloppers. You've no shuckin' right to talk klunk about the Greenie," a boy with big ears responded; A couple of boys snickered.

"What...Where...Who are you?" Adrian got out. "And what's a Greenie? or a Slopper?"

"Ease yourself, Greenie," the redhead said. "Just relax. Ignore these shanks, Greenbean."

"Why are you calling me a _Greenbean_?" Adrian asked, his voice laced with as much anger as he could conjure up.

"Slim it," the redhead responded calmly, his voice showing his irritation.

"But I want to know. Why can't I remember anything?"

"I don't know! Why don't you take a stroll into the Maze and ask the Creators? None of us have our shuckin' memories, you slinthead," the redhead spat. He quickly followed it up with, "Sorry, Greenie. I didn't get any sleep last night."

"Sorry 'bout him, Greenie," said a different redheaded boy who was wearing some sort of military field jacket. "Forgive Lee, he hit his head just a bit too many times."

A few boys snickered.

"Look, Greenie," the leader, Lee, proposed. "If you manage to keep that piper of your shut 'till tomorrow, you'll get the answers you so badly desire. Why? Because you're too shook up from the Box to wrap your head around klunk. Once you get a day to relax and a hot meal in you, you'll be a bit more keen to answers. For the time being, I'll explain a bit: Seventy-five of us were sent up to this place; It's called the Glade. We're Gladers. I lead them. Do your part, don't hurt nobody, and for the love of all that's good and holy, don't go out into the Maze. Your new life begins tomorrow; Don't worry, in a few weeks you'll be happy and helping out."

"Alright, shanks, go back to your work," Justin commanded, and the group quickly dispersed, Lee included, until only Justin and a Glader with a full head of strawberry-blonde hair remained.

"That's Glenn," Justin said, rubbing his eyes. "He'll give you the Tour and show you the ropes. G'luck, Greenie." And with that, Justin was gone, walking away with the rest of the Gladers.

Adrian slumped against a tree, feeling far too confused and scared to do anything. He ignored the blonde boy, Glenn, as he walked over to him and slid down next to him.

"Hey, Adrian," greeted Glenn cheerfully.

"What do you want?" mumbled Adrian, on the verge of tears.

"Nothin' really in particular. Actually, I mean, I'd like to make ya feel just a bit better," he said.

"Make me wake up from this terrible, terrible dream," Adrian replied, surprised at how dead his voice sounded.

Glenn laughed a bit. "Yeah, I feel you. This place can be a real klunkhole sometimes."

"What do they call me Greenbean?" Adrian asked, ignoring Glenn's previous statement.

"Well, that'd be 'cuz you're the newest addition to the Gladers. We get one once a month, so get used to it till next month."

Startled, Adrian asked, "How long have you been here?"

Glenn sighed. "I've been here since the start, two years ago."

"Two years? Well, I mean, haven't you figured a way out of this mess?"

Glenn laughed. "You've got a lot to learn, Adrian."

They both got up and Glenn began to walk around the Glade, signaling Adrian to follow.

"Lee said the tour started tomorrow."

"Yeah, well, Lee can kiss my butt," Glenn replied, a glint in his eyes.

Adrian followed Glenn as he walked, pointing out a barn in a corner of the Glade."That there, is where the Slicers work. Butchers, really. The Keeper there's named Adam, not that bad a guy considering he murders animals all day. If you wanna slice up sheep and cows and that stuff, have a go."

Adrian shuddered."Nope. No thanks."

Glenn grinned. "The typical response." He then pointed to a very large garden and said, "Track-Hoes. Farmers. Back-breakin' work but I s'pose it's honest work. Then again, all work in the Glade is honest."

Adrian followed Glenn to where a wooden, two-story house sat, surprisingly well-constructed. "This where we sleep?"

"What?" Glenn asked. "Oh, nah. A few of 'em sleep in there, but most of us sleep outside. No rain or nothing like that, so it's all good."

"What goes on in there?"

"Well, the Med-jacks, like myself, work on patching up the idiots that hurt 'emselves. The Cooks, namely Thien, Dumbo, Bruno, and Ricky, cook our meals all year long."

"So the Med-jacks are doctors?" Adrian asked. "Well, if you're a Med-jack, why don't you have a patch on your arm like Justin?"

Glenn glanced down at his arm. "Oh, well, I don't really know. Never really fancied differing myself from the other Gladers."

Adrian was intrigued by this whole job system. "You mentioned other jobs? Like what?"

Glenn paused. "Well, you've got the Med-jacks, the Track-Hoes, the Slicers, the Sloppers, the Cooks, the Runners, the Builders, the Bricknicks, and...the Baggers."

"Well, what do the Bricknicks and the Baggers do?"

"If the Builders, or anyone for that matter, break something, the Bricknicks come and patch them up. The Baggers, well, bag the corpses of dead Gladers," Glenn explained.

"Uh, do Gladers die, like, everyday?" Adrian asked, shuddering at the thought.

"What? Oh, no." Glenn laughed a little. "The Baggers also act as guards, but often pitch in to help, say, the Track-Hoes. Most of the Baggers have more than one job. I used to be one myself, but it didn't fit me. Became a Med-jack instead."

"Well, what job will I get?"

"Don't know yet," Glenn replied. "You'll be gettin' tested over the next few days to see what job you'll get. Can't be a Runner, though. And pray that you don't become a Slopper.

"Well, why can't I be a Runner and why shouldn't I be a Slopper?" Adrian asked, a bit annoyed at being told what he couldn't do.

"Because the Runners are the best of the best, dude. They run around all day outside the Glade, and outside the Glade is like this huge maze. And you don't wanna be a Slopper because they're basically maids. They just clean stuff, wash clothes, the lame klunk. You don't like washin' clothes, Adrian, right?"

"Nope," Adrian answered, popping the 'p' for emphasis. "Tell me about the Keepers, though."

Glenn held up one finger and motioned for Adrian to follow. Glenn jogged over to a nearby tree overlooking the Glade, and slumped down against it. "Right, Greenie, erm, Adrian. So Keepers are like the bosses. There's a Keeper for the Track-Hoes, Hunter, a Keeper for the Med-jacks, Justin, and a Keeper for every job." Before Adrian could ask, Glenn quickly followed it up with, "Paul and Vex are the Keepers of the Sloppers and Runners respectively; Paul's that little runt that made fun of ya when you showed up, and Vex, well, you'll meet him soon. He runs the Maze along with ol' Hank; Hank's just about the most laid-back dude ever."

"Have they ran the Maze since the start?" Adrian asked, intrigued by these...Runners.

"Well, when this place started, Lee took control pretty quickly. By day four, four people were runnin' the Maze: Lee, Vex, and two shanks named Michael and Evan. Vex got his leg cut by a Griever on his first day, shuckin' amateur that he is, and while he was restin' up in bed, a new kid who went by the name of Franklin was running. Franklin, got, well, stung, let's say, by a Griever. It pricks you with this needle and you get all sick and weird and start screaming and you have to inject this thing called the Grief Serum so you don't die. Well, Franklin got patched up and was good and well, and Lee opted out of running to lead better, and a few more slintheads, Kenny, Felix, Jackson, and Wes, started runnin' alongside the original boys. And all was well and good for about two months or so, but then Franklin didn't come back. Felix, who had grown quite fond of Franklin, took off into the part of the Maze where Frank had disappeared."

"What happened to them?" Adrian asked, knowing that this story didn't have a happy ending.

Glenn sighed. "Lee sent out a search party consisting of me and the rest of the Baggers the next day, and we found Felix and Franklin. Franklin was cut up pretty bad and Felix...Felix, man, he was barely recognizable. Poor shanks, they didn't deserve it. Myself and another Bagger, Benji, hauled what was left of our Runners back to the Glade. James, who was Keeper of the Baggers at the time, wanted to stay back and examine the bodies. Well, we get back to the Glade, tell Lee and the others, and we bury them. Then Vex comes in, exhausted as shuck, hauling a dead James on his back. From what the Med-jacks could tell, he had been impaled right through the back with some sorta blade. We buried our Keeper. Benji took over as Keeper of the Baggers and I vowed to never put myself through that again. Lee banished search parties and I joined up with the Med-jacks."

Adrian's heart was heavy; He was saddened by the deaths of the three boys even though he'd never spoken to them. "Uh...what happened to...the other Runners?"

"Hank took over Frank's spot as a Runner, and this lanky kid who didn't talk much named Charlie took over my spot as a Bagger. Michael died 'bout four months ago, all shuckin' mangled, missing a leg and a hand, being carried into the Glade by a mortified Wes."

Adrian took it in, thinking about the dead Gladers. "How...uh, how many of you have died?"

"Fourteen," Glenn answered curtly. "Fourteen of us have died. And you wanna know the worst part? Only nine of them have been found. And we shuckin' banished two of them into the Maze, whereupon they were brutally murdered by Grievers."

"Why would you banish them to die?"

Glenn turned to look at Lee; his eyes were watery. "The first one murdered another Glader, and the other severely wounded one of the Builders."

Adrian knew he was crossing the line, but he still had dozens of questions. "What were their names? The murderer, the one who hurt the other, the name of the Builder, and the name of the boy who got killed."

A tear rolled down Glenn's cheek but he still answered with, "Charlie murdered one of the Bricknicks, Miles, because Charlie wandered into the Maze, got stung, went crazy, and took a knife to Miles because he tried to calm 'im down. Same happened with some piece of scum whose name I've long since forgotten; stabbed one of the Builders, Matt, because he tried to do the same thing Miles did."

Adrian felt a lump in his throat. Trying to change the subject, he asked, voice a bit shaky, "What time is it?"

"Six," Glenn replied, standing up. "Runners'll be back soon."

And as if on cue, a scream for help emitted from the Glade.

 **oOo**

"Glade been treatin' ya well, Greenie?" asked a perky Irish boy, Rowan.

"Uh, I mean, I came up pretty late in the day, and I was given a brief tour and a history on the Runners, followed up by that Runner, Vex, hauling some hurt kid on his shoulders into the Glade. So, the Glade is pretty friggin' creepy, but I suppose it's treated me well."

A boy across the table, Benji, chuckled. "That's good enough, I guess."

"Any ideas on what ya wanna be?" Justin asked. "Might even wanna be a Med-jack, like ourselves, ye?"

Adrian grinned. "Sorry, dude. Not into patchin' up hurt shanks all day."

The boy sitting next to him, the one with big ears, Dumbo, asked, "How 'bout a Cook? Like to practice the culinary arts, eh?"

Rowan laughed. "Dude, your food tastes like actual shuckin' klunk."

"I actually might wanna be a Cook," Adrian replied. "Fryin' up food for shanks that can't cook it."

"That's the spirit, Greenie!" cheered an Asian boy who had joined them. "Fortunately, the Cooks are the third job you'll be tested for. Also, nice use on our slang. Fits ya well."

And for the first time since coming up in that elevator thing, Adrian actually felt happy.

* * *

 **Hey! Thanks for reading! I tried to have this chapter out as quick as possible. I haven't a lot of school left, so luckily for you guys I'll be able to post it. Moving on to the chapter bit, the WICKED part was very short, but next chapter will have a flashback of a certain character. I've already created the past lives of most all the Gladers and during Phase Two, Glade flashbacks will be used. I wanted to inform you all on what happened to a couple of the Gladers and why Glenn became a Med-jack and all that stuff. If any of you are willing to include in your review the character you'd like to see a flashback of, I'll gladly oblige. Anyways, see you all next chapter!**

 **-LI**


	6. Chapter 6: Before

Adrian was startled to find himself being shaken awake by someone.

"Gle...?" Adrian groggily mumbled, feeling fear creep up his chest.

"Nah, shank, it's me," whispered a distinctive voice. _Rowan_. The Bricknick. Or the Builder? Regardless, the fear melted away instantly.

"Wha...wha you want?" Adrian asked, still tired.

"Gonna give you the Tour. Now hurry, you wouldn't wanna be wakin' up ol' Thien, now would ya? He's like a shuck bear when he doesn't get enough sodding beauty sleep."

Adrian groaned, stretched, and got up to follow the boy, careful not to step over the dozing Gladers that slept near him, namely Thien, Dumbo, Justin, Glenn, and a Med-jack whose name Adrian hadn't yet learned.

"So, what did Glenn tell ya about this shuckin' place?" Rowan whispered as they maneuvered their way through the landmine of sleeping Gladers.

"A bit," Adrian whispered back.

Rowan chuckled lightly. "A bit, eh?"

They separated themselves from the horde of sleeping teenagers before Rowen asked, "Of course Glenn shuckin' told ya something, ya muppet; He loves the Greenies like they're his own kin. But what _in particular_ did he buggin' tell ya?"

"Well, he told me a lil' bit about, erm, about the jobs and why I wouldn't want to be a Runner or a Slopper."

Rowan turned to face him. "Anything else?"

Adrian hesitated before replying, "He told me a bit about the ones who died. Miles, James, Michael, those ones."

Rowan nodded, sniffing a bit before swiftly turning his head away and walking towards the Deadheads. "I guess it's good that you know now, I buggin' suppose. They were all good people, save for that piece of scum, Charlie."

"Ah, I see," Adrian responded, but he really didn't see anything. Compared to what what these boys had been through in the past two years, him coming up in the Box was like paradise. As they walked, Adrian noticed a Glader sipping something out of a metal canteen; The Glader took a brief glance at the boys.

"Morning," the boy called out.

Rowan turned and walked towards the early-bird Glader. Within seconds, they closed the gap.

"Mornin', Kit," Rowan greeted. "Just givin' the Greenie the Tour."

The boy, apparently Kit, replied, "You're wasting your time, shank. Glenn gave 'im the rundown yesterday." Kit then looked at Adrian. "You thirsty, Greenie?"

"Yeah," Adrian replied, realizing just now how parched his throat had become. Trying to make some lame joke, he asked, "Got any soda? Or maybe lemonade?"

Kit grinned. "Of course I have shuckin' lemonade; I heated it, though. I like it that way."

Kit tossed the metal canteen, and Adrian caught it with ease. He unscrewed the cap, put the canteen to his lips, and took a long swig; The hot lemonade warmed him to the core.

"Thanks," he said, tossing the canteen back.

"Sure thing, Greenbean," Kit replied. "Now off with ya then. Even if you've been told everything there is to be told, you haven't seen anything there has to be seen." Kit looked away, but didn't stop talking. "And Greenie?"

"Yeah?"

"You're not gonna like what you see. And it's perfectly alright to be scared. We all are."

As Rowan dragged him off, talking some junk about being a cook, Adrian felt dread creeping up; Kit had looked away when he told him it was alright to be afraid?

"Right, Greenie. Here we are," Rowan said; In his thoughts, Adrian had failed to notice that Rowan was standing beside the West Wall.

"Why are we here?"

Rowen help a finger to his lips and reached over to a thick curtain of ivy, pulling it away with his hand, revealing a jagged scar on his hand. Adrian froze up a bit as he wondered what could have caused that scar. A blade, surely. But why did he get cut with it?

"Alright, so this may seem like buggin' nothin', but just you wait, Greenbean. Just you wait."

The ivy revealed a window several inches thick, probably bulletproof. Not like it mattered; Nobody was toting firearms in the Glade. On they stood, for at least a three full minutes. Rowan focused intently on the window, although there was only the fog of dawn outside. Nothing distinctive. Adrian, feeling a bit bored, was going to ask Rowan why they were there when the Maze _changed_. Well, the Maze itself didn't change. But something _in_ the Maze did.

"Out there's a Maze, Greenie," Rowan said in a hushed whisper. "Every single thing we do, our very existence, revolves around that Maze. Shuck farmin', buildin', cookin', even sloppin', none of that'll matter when the Doors ain't closin'. That Maze is the only reason that we live. Yet it's also the only reason why we _die_."

Just then, a large, bulbous creature the size of a cow yet with no head or feet leapt at the window, landing with a _thunk_ against the glass. Adrian yelped as fear shot through him; A mix of part animal, part machine, and part monster, the creature was the most horrific thing Adrian had ever seen, memory loss or not. It had blades, claws, syringes and even an inactive saw protruding out of it. The creature, no, the monster, seemed to realize it was being watched and scurried away, leaving a thick trail of slime behind it.

"Rowan, what...was that?" Adrian asked, feeling a mix of terror and curiosity mixing within him.

"These nasty buggers have taken the lives of eleven boys," Rowan said. "We call 'em Grievers. I'm sure Glenn's told you all about em. Hate those things. They sting you, make you go through the Changing. Well, sting isn't the right word. Prick, ye, that's the right word."

"But...Glenn said fourteen people died," Adrian said, regretting it instantly; He felt like, as the Gladers would say, a slinthead.

Rowan sighed. Without looking at Adrian he replied, "Well, there's the Charlie incident you know of, and two of the Builders, William and Xavier, died in a construction incident. And one of the Slicers, Dylan, well, let's just say a bull went a wee bit mental." Rowan turned to Adrian. That all you wanna know, shuckhead? You pleased with your answers now, Greenie?"

"Sorry, I, uh...I shouldn't have asked."

Rowan sighed again, this time longer. "It's bloody fine, just...nobody likes talkin' 'bout the dead. Puts a real damper on the buggin' mood." He grinned a little bit. "Now, come on. Wake-up's in a few. You're gettin' tested today!"

* * *

 _The house was silent, save for the stifled sobs of the boy. The father, cradling him in his arms, tried his best not to cry, tried to stay strong. He wouldn't be around, that much was certain; After his wife went out, said she was going to look for food, only to never come back, for her body to be discovered weeks later, mutilated and rotting in the festering heat. A knock sounded from the door. Moments later, two men and a woman walked in.  
_

 _"Hello, Mr. O'Brien," one of the men said. "I am Kevin Anderson, Chancellor of WICKED. With me are my associates, Ava Paige and Charles Jansen."_

 _Fergus O'Brien gave a little nod to his son, and they both rose from their chair. "Uh, yeah...Hello."_

 _"Mr. O'Brien, are you ready?" Kevin asked._

 _"I, uh...let's just get this mess over with," Fergus replied._

 _The little boy walked towards the boy, clutching the suitcase in his hands._

 _"WICKED would like to thank you for your immense sacrifice to our corporation. Your son will pave the way for finding the cure to the deadly disease that has ravaged our planet. He will be well-fed and live in our facilities, equipped with showers, toilets, electricity, and clean drinking water," Ava Paige said._

 _"Get on with it," Fergus spat, feeling the tears start to spill down his cheeks._

 _The three WICKED employees and Fergus' son walked out of the door, out of the house that once was full of love, friendship, and happiness. But no more. Fergus walked over to the cold fireplace, reached for the hunting rifle over the mantle that his father had given him just a little over ten years ago. He grabbed two boxes of ammunition off the mantle as well, and loaded the rifle. WICKED's vehicle, a black SUV, revved up its engine and drove off._

 _Months later, when Fergus had contracted the disease, he still sat in the same chair that he was sitting in when they took him away, cradling the same rifle given to him by his father. In the distance, he heard the inhuman shrieks of Cranks._

 _He was going to die._

 _But if he was going to die, he would die fighting.  
_

* * *

According to Lee, who had become a lot more friendly overnight, they judged Gladers on jobs in a certain order, and since Adrian had taken an interest in cooking, he would be working with the Slicers. "If you wanna cook the food, you gotta know how to kill the food first," Lee had said. "Or we just wanna see how good ya do as a Slicer." Regardless, he was stuck with the Slicers all day. The Slicers themselves weren't that bad; Adam, Keeper of the Slicers, was quiet but friendly enough, and the only other two Slicers that talked to him were a talkative boy named Bronson and a taller, outgoing boy named Spencer (Referred to as "Spence" by most of the other Slicers). But when it came to the Slicing, Adrian almost threw up. He watched as Bronson let a fat, loud pig into the Bloodhouse while Adam and another Slicer butchered it. There were only two redeeming qualities about working with the Slicers: The first was that Hank's screaming couldn't be heard as well, and that there was a very friendly St. Bernard who the other Slicers and Sloppers (who came in to wipe up the mess) had taken to calling "Bernie." When Adrian had asked how Bernie had come to be in the Glade, Adam replied that Bernie had come up with Bronson in the Box two months after they woke up in the Glade. Regardless, as Adrian's head hit the pillow that night, he was convinced that he'd never eat meat again.

He was woken by the sounds of the Doors opening; It appeared that this was the natural alarm clock for the Gladers, as he could see (and hear) the Gladers stirring in their sleep. In the distance, Bronson and a couple other Gladers stumbled and fell over each other in an attempt to get up. Near him, Dumbo tried to wake up Thien, who didn't move a muscle. He ignored them and watched as the Runners prepared for the day.

"Mornin', Greenbean," Lee said, popping up out of nowhere with a cheerful grin.

"Hey, Lee," Adrian replied. "Who's gonna be taking over?"

"Who's taking over what?"

A scream, the loudest of them all, came from the Homestead, waking up most of the Gladers from their groggy haze.

"Oh," Lee muttered. "You mean Hank."

Adrian felt bad for forgetting his name again. "Yeah. Hank. Who's replacing him?"

Adrian watched as Vex, Keeper of the Runners, shook hands with another Glader.

"Scotty," Lee replied. "Scotty will be takin' over for Hank, until he, uh...feels better."

Lee turned to Adrian. "Now come on, Greenie, you've got farming to do!"

* * *

 _Ava Paige watched as Thomas worked in the fields with the other subjects. On another screen, a short boy with grey hair, Subject A19, Clinton, spoon-fed Teresa some sort of broth. Three other screens showed Aris, Rachel, and Adrian. Adrian worked in the fields with the other farmers (What did they call themselves again? Track-Hoes?) similar to how Rachel and Thomas did, but Adrian was different. In a sense, he was the Triggers subject, but he did not possess the powers implemented into the four other Trigger subjects, as he was the last subject to be sent up._

 _"Charles?"_

 _Assistant Director Jansen turned to look at her. "Yes, Chancellor Paige?"_

 _"Has the Trigger been implemented into the Mazes?"_

 _"Yes," Jansen replied. "Groups A, B, and C will be encountering the first signs of the Trigger. I'm most interested to see the results, especially Group C's, it being that they haven't any Trigger subjects."_

 _"Yes, as am I," Ava replied in return. "They have more subjects but no Trigger subject. Most interesting, indeed."_

 _And then came the shouts. Ava smiled._

 _It was Group C's Maze. Two boys came sprinting through the North Door. Within seconds, a crowd formed around the two Runners; They were back early, it would quite obviously be intriguing. Although the Beetle Blade was far away, it could pick up bits of information, namely, "One mile...found him...dead one...dead Griever."_

 _Ava's smile widened._

 _It had begun._

* * *

 **Hey, thanks for reading Chapter Six! I tried to incorporate a chapter involving Lee's past but I rather used the viewpoint of a parent of one of the Gladers! So the Trigger has been activated, and now it's just gonna go downhill for the Gladers of Groups A, B, C. Tell me what you think!**


	7. Chapter 7: Locked Out

"You found a dead _what_?"

"How'd it die?"

"You're yanking our shuckin' chains!"

"Why didn't you bring it back?"

"You sure it's dead, shank?"

"This is a joke!"

"Silence!" Lee barked; Everyone shut up. "Vex, what'd you find?"

"Scott found it," Vex replied. "I heard him blow the air horn and I came running."

Lee turned to Scott. "Alright, Scotty, what'd you find?"

"A dead Griever," Scott replied, face red from sprinting all the way back. "It was just laying there, upside down. None of its creepy saws and stuff were moving. I mean, it's probably not asleep or anything. It looked dead."

Lee pondered this for a second before saying, "Alright, I need to check this out." Murmurs shot through the crowd of Gladers as Lee continued, "I'm taking Scott, Vex, and one of the Baggers. Benji?"

Benji stepped forward; Adrian remembered him being mentioned by Glenn a few days ago. Benji sported a long face with dark curly hair, and shiny blue eyes. "I'll send Percy with you."

Another Glader with chiseled features and a buzz cut stepped out of the crowd, holding a wooden rod with a knife tied to the end. "What are we waitin' for, shanks?" Percy asked, grinning. "Let's grab ourselves a Griever!"

And without another word, the four Gladers ran into the Maze.

 **oOo**

Hunter returned to the fields while the other Gladers spoke of the dead Griever. Jakob, easily excitable and always suspicious of the Creators, was ranting on about how this was the end of being in the Glade, how once Lee and the others returned they'd find their way out.

"I don't know about that," said the Greenie. What was his name? Aaron? No, that was the Med-jack. Adrian? Maybe.

"Aw, you ain't knowin' a thing, Green," Snafu, one of the Gladers who wasn't as impressed with the new Greenie. "You've not seen the shuckin' Grievers, have ya? Actually, you probably have. Rowan give you the tour yet?"

"Yeah," the Greenbean replied.

"Well, you've not seen the bodies. When Benji, Glenn, and Jordan hauled back our Runners, it was terrible, man. You mighta been told stuff, but to see the mangled corpse of a boy that was so shucked up that you ain't even know who it is until someone has to tell ya, you know that klunk's bad."

"So?" Adrian asked.

"So," spat Snafu,"Whatever can shuck up a kid that bad is a force to be reckoned with. What do you think, one of the Runners killed 'im? They have a few knives and a short sword at most. This is probably the end, the sign that it'll all come to an end."

"He's right!" Jakob declared. "Finally, somehow who has a brain around here!"

"Yeah," Hunter said, "But what if that means the ending of _us_ , not of us being in the Glade? What if somethin' real nasty's out there, and just now it's awoken. If it can kill a Griever, with all its appendages and blades and klunk, then it'll wreck a bunch of teenage boys with spears and knives."

"I don't know about you, Hunter," Adrian started, "Shuck, I barely know anything about myself. I don't know what happened to me or how I got here, but I'm thinking that I was an optimist. And maybe the son of, like, some successful scientist. The optimist part tells me we all won't get murdered by some unknown force and the logical part of me tells me we won't get murdered by some unknown force because what would be the point? You lock seventy-odd kids in a Maze for two years, watch them develop a mini-society with jobs, only to do away with them using some powerful creature? No. I do think that things will be changing here, but I don't think all of us will just up and die."

"Good point, Greenbean," Snafu said. "But still, the question remains: What killed the Griever?"

"Hey, idiots," sneered the Keeper of the Sloppers, Paul, carrying a hamper full of clothes. "Chattin' bout the Griever, are ya? Well, if you wanna hear my opinion–"

"We don't," Snafu growled.

"Good that," Hunter replied, shooting Paul a cold glare that showed that he needed to shuck off. The Slopper complied, walking off with a chuckle, muttering something about how they're all fools.

* * *

 _The Beetle Blade picked up shrieks and shouts from the end of the corridor. Johnathan and Jansen watched as three boys rounded the corner. The first, Subject C-4, Vex. The second, a blonde boy. Johnathan instantly recognized him as Scott, Subject C-21. The third, who was being carried by Vex, was Subject C-1. Lee.  
_

 _"Where's the other?" asked Jansen, leaning forward on his chair._

 _"Oh, you mean C-18? What was it? Percy?" Johnathan asked. "I haven't a clue. He's either fighting it or he died."  
_

 _"We'll check on them later," Jansen replied. "Check on Group B; Emily is currently observing Group A."_

 _Johnathan complied, tapping a few keys into his keyboard: W-I-C-K-E-D-M-Z-G-B-5. WICKED Maze Trials Group B, Cam 5. The fifth Beetle Blade was in the infirmary. Subject B-28, Rebecca, was spoon-feeding Aris. Johnathan remembered the boy, one of the most well-mannered boys he'd ever met._

 _"How long will he be in a coma?" asked Johnathan._

 _"A few days, give or take," Jansen replied. "I myself don't know. Funny, huh?"_

 _Johnathan ignored him. "Has Trial 1.4 been activated in the other Groups?"_

 _"Yes," Jansen replied. "I figured you should know this since you're one of the Monitors, but yes, I've checked with Grady and Emily and they report that Group A and B both went. Groups A and B took two people whilst Group C's taken four."_

 _Johnathan sipped his coffee. "A bit of a mistake, wasn't it, huh?"_

 _"Yes, you could say that."_

 _"So, granted that Percy was killed fighting the Griever, and the three make them back before it catches up with them, another one intersects the trio, or C-1 succumbs to his injuries, there are sixty of them left," Johnathan murmured, setting his coffee down. Fifteen dead. Gives you something to think about. Group B has lost ten girls and Group A has lost twelve boys. Johnathan just hoped that they made it, all three groups. Group C probably had it worst: More mouths to feed, no Trigger subjects (Adrian's responses haven't even been predicted), no interaction with the Guides, like Jorge and Brenda, and no interaction with other groups. Not to mention their Phase Two is going to inflict the most casualties out of all the Groups; That's why Groups A and B have been used primarily for the Killzone patterns.  
_

 _Johnathan sighed, put his coffee down._

How did it come to this _? he wondered._

* * *

Half the Glade had organized at the North Door; The other half had given up, deemed the four Gladers dead, and wandered off to go lay in their hammocks in a slump or a few got drunk on the moonshine that the Gladers stored. According to one of the Keepers, Adrian thought it was Thien, the Keeper of the Cooks, it was 7:28. The Doors closed at 7:30.

"The shuck are they?" Benji muttered.

"This ain't right," Jakob murmured beside Adrian. "Something's gone terribly wrong."

"It's 7:29!" someone called from the back of the crowd in a panicked voice.

"Show's over, lads," Rowan said, kicking a rock. "They're gone." And with that, Rowan started to walk off; A few others followed. Bronson, Glenn, and a couple other boys Adrian didn't recognize.

"What? No!" Dumbo protested. "You're just gonna give up? They've still got time!"

Just then, someone shouted, "Look! They're back!"

Adrian nearly spun to see them; Whoever shouted was right, but the four Gladers were busted up, for lack of a better term. Lee was covered in blood and was being carried on Vex's shoulders while Percy was running next to him. Actually, running wasn't the proper word. Limping was. Percy's sleeves had been ripped off in some sort of fight, and his bare arms were covered in cuts and gashes. He was limping steadily, clutching his bloodstained spear. Scott was nowhere to be found. The Gladers started to shout at them.

"Come on!"

"Hurry!"

"Someone do something!"

"The Doors are closing!"

"Get a weapon!"

"Where are the shuck Med-jacks?!"

"You can do it!"

Adrian stood in shock as the Gladers shouted at them. A brave few tried to run in to help, but they were quickly pulled back by the more logical ones. As the doors started to come together, Adrian shoved his way out of the crowd, and with blind fear overtaking his senses, he dashed forward, putting distance between himself and the crowd of Gladers. A couple tried to grab him, and others shouted at him to stop. Too late. He sprinted through the North Door, careful not to get impaled by the poles sticking out of one side of the massive stone wall. He squeezed his way through, and as he met with the three Gladers, the North Door closed with a menacing _thud_. Vex collapsed onto the ground, and Lee slid off his shoulders; Percy also fell.

"Man," Percy panted, "If there...was ever...an award for the dumbest shucking shuck-faced Greenie shuck, you'd win the award."

"I was trying to help," Adrian shot back.

Vex got to his feet. "Help?" he spat, wiping some blood off of his chin. "Greenie, we're all dead now. Nobody survives a night in the Maze. You couldn't have done _anything_ to help. You should've just stayed inside the Glade."

Adrian ignored their criticism, instead leaning down to check Lee. He had been stabbed in the shoulder with something, but it didn't look like any arteries were punctured. There was also some sort of puncture, probably from a syringe, but Adrian was no doctor.

"What happened?" Adrian asked, taking in the sight of the three wounded Gladers.

"Griever ain't dead," Percy replied, tying a rag around his leg.

"We went to check it out, and it came to life. Attacked us, stung Lee and was just about to kill him when shuckin' Spartacus over here started stabbing it, yelling at us to run. We did. Not sure how Percy got those wounds, but he says the Griever got real vicious and nearly cut his leg off then ran away. Another one came by and Scott panicked, ran off. He's probably dead," Vex explained.

"So that's that?" Adrian asked. "We're dead?"

"You got it, bud," Vex replied, eying the end of the corridor carefully. He turned to the other two. "C'mon, let's make sure they find Lee's body in the morning."

"I'll get his feet, you get his hands," Adrian said. "Let Percy rest; That wound is nasty."

"Why thank you," Percy replied, but eased up against the stone walls of the Maze.

Adrian grabbed Lee's sneakers, and grunted as he hefted up the lower half of Lee's limp body; He was heavier than he looked. Vex did the same, and they carried the leader of the Glade to the entrance of the North Door.

"There," Vex muttered. "At least they'll have a body to bury."

Percy has risen to his feet, spear in hands. "We should fight them."

"Why?" Vex asked. "We're shucking dead anyways."

"I ain't care, might as well go out with a fight," Percy replied, his voice laced with disgust and anger. "You wanna mope or you wanna fight?"

"Mope," Vex flatly replied.

"What about you, Greenie?" Percy asked. "You wanna go out fighting? You're gonna die anyways."

Percy had a point; If the Grievers were going to attack and kill them, they would all die painfully. But what if they weren't going to die?

"What makes you so sure that we're gonna die?" Adrian asked, feeling annoyed at how accepting the other Gladers were of death.

Vex laughed dryly. "We're dyin', Greenie. Back in the beginning, when Frank got stung and recovered, I knew we shouldn't have kept him running, shucking knew it. But no, he said was fine so we let it happen. Anyone who hasn't made it back or hasn't showed up before the Doors close at night, well, they don't show up in the morning. Those who we find are dead. Nobody has survived. And guess what? We're not gonna survive either, bucko. You may be a bit optimistic, but lemme tell you something: It's over. Might as well quit."

"That's it then?" snapped Percy. "You just gonna lay down and wait for the Grievers to take you out?"

Vex solemnly nodded.

"Fine then," he spat, and then reached over for the crumpled backpack that Vex had dropped. After rooting around in it, Percy retrieved a stainless-steel machete and a long knife. He slid the knife over to Vex, probably just to see if he would change his mind.

"Here, Green," Percy said, handing the machete to Adrian. "At least die with some courage."

Accepting defeat, Adrian took the machete, clutching it in his hands. There they stood, weapons in their hands, an unconscious Lee drawing in raspy breaths. It felt to Adrian like an eternity as ever minute passed. And then, when Adrian felt he could relax just a bit, he heard it.

The noises.

The sounds of whirs, clicks, and other machinery cut into the dead silence of the Maze. Adrian's blood ran cold as he tensed up, gripping the machete as much confidence as he could muster up.

"Stay strong," Percy whispered, his voice laced with rage.

The sounds of machinery, of those Grievers, got louder; The machinery was occasionally drowned out with a raspy moan, like a wounded soldier moaning for water; It was a terribly haunting sound. And just when Adrian couldn't take it anymore, it rounded the corner.

It was just like the one Rowen had showed Adrian not that long ago, but standing face-to-face with one was much different than looking at it through thick glass. It froze for a moment, confused, and then began to move towards the four boys. Adrian felt terror creeping up, heard the voice in his shriek at him to run, felt himself twitch with horror, but held strong. It moved closer and closer, and was just about to pounce when a shriek resounded from within the Maze, and then Scott, _Scott_ , came sprinting from the corridor. A long, bloody knife was clutched in his hand as he bellowed a war cry and pounced on the Griever, plunging his knife into its thick, whalish skin. Terrible sounds came from both the Griever and Scott as Adrian and Percy watched.

"FOR THE GLADERS!" Scott screamed, releasing his knife from the Griever just to knock off an appendage that had come too close. Amidst the brutal conflict, Scott turned to the Gladers. "THIS IS IT! THE ENDING! WE CAN DEFEAT THEM!"

The Griever managed to grasp a claw onto Scott's arm, and threw him onto the ground. The Griever aimed a blade at Scott, and plunged it right into his throat. Scott went stiff for a moment and then his body went limp, his dead eyes wide open. Adrian was about to attack the weakened Griever when another voice shrieked, this one of the same rage. Vex shoved past Adrian, nearly knocking him to the ground. Vex dodged a slice on the Griever and began to swing wildly at the Griever, hitting metal and flesh at random. Adrian, fueled by Scott's death, ran forward and hacked at the Griever. It let out a terrifying moan-shriek, and soon Percy joined in, stabbing it with his spear. The Griever was apparently confused, having to focus on three targets at once. Adrian was horrified out of his wits and his hands were shaking terribly as he maneuvered around the Griever, striking its side where it had a tougher time hitting him. Vex and Percy's faces were also etched with fear but they fought bravely; Vex was very agile, with the experience of a Runner while Percy had the experience of a fighter. The other two Gladers were dodging and evading the attacks with some difficulty but their strikes still hit home. The Griever kept emitting terrible raspy screams, like it was agonizing pain as it, disoriented, kept trying to kill the others. The Griever, acknowledging defeat, tried to retreat, but Vex, whose facial expression had turned from fear to rage and he jabbed his knife deep into the Griever's flesh. That was the last straw, and after an ear-piercing shriek, the Griever's lights shut off and it's many whirrs and clicks went quiet.

The night was silent, pierced only by the sharp, panting breaths of the three exhausted Gladers.

"Did...we...just..." Percy panted.

"Y...Yeah..." Vex replied. "We...did."

 **oOo**

After what seemed like a century, the North Door shuddered and started to creak open, grinding along the stone floor. Adrian sat slumped up against the wall, next to an unconscious Lee and Percy. After the fight, Vex had sunk to his knees, crawled over to Scott, and hadn't said a word since.

"We did it," Percy said, laughing; it was cracked and dry. "We actually survived a night in the Maze."

"Wasn't that hard," Adrian replied, smiling slightly. "I'd do that crap...klunk again.

"Glader language suits ya," Percy said, wiping some sweat from his brow. "Use it more often."

Shouts came from the Glade, and Adrian craned his head to see almost the entire Glade. Most of them looked fatigued or tired; It had seemed that they hadn't moved from their spot all night. The alarmed shouts turned to loud cheers and yells as they realized that the boys were alive, not just hunched over, dead. Rowan had shoved his way through the cheering horde.

"Well, lads, what're you doing?" Rowan yelled, grinning widely. "Go help the shanks!"

About six boys rushed forward immediately, two of them bearing the patches of medics; The Med-jacks. The other four were Snafu, Bronson, Dumbo, and another boy Adrian didn't recognize. It was then when Vex fell on his back, revealing Scott, whose eyes had been closed by Vex. He looked peaceful, sleeping, save for the giant blade wound on his throat.

"Wait," The boy Adrian didn't recognize said. "Is...that a dead Griever?"

"Ye," Vex replied; His voice was groggy and flat. "Shuck sure is, Matt. Scott did most of the work."

"Shuck!" cursed Aaron, taking a step forward.

"No," Vex ordered. "Don't try. He's been like this for hours. He's dead."

Aaron turned to Percy. "Percy, let's go to the infirmary tent, get you patched up."

"I've got Lee," Justin replied.

Aaron and the other boy, Matt, propped Percy up, and with the two acting as crutches, they hauled Percy away.

"You alright there, Greenbean?" asked Snafu. "Any cuts or anythin'? Must've sucked cow klunk to be fightin' the Griever."

"Nah, nah, I'm good," Adrian replied, getting to his feet, groaning as his knees cracked from being stiff for so long.

Snafu gave Adrian a pat on the shoulder and then returned to Justin, where they were trying to lift Lee up. Benji shoved his way through the crowd of excited Gladers. The boy's face screamed of exhaustion; He probably hadn't slept all night. He moved past the group trying to carry Lee, and stopped at Scott's feet.

"May you rest in peace. Maybe we'll meet in another life," Benji whispered, just loud enough for Adrian to hear. He then grabbed Adrian by the hands and threw him over his shoulder, firefighter-style. Adrian stumbled over to Vex, who was staring down the dead Griever. Adrian extended a hand; Vex stared at it like some piece of space-age technology.

"Come on," Adrian said. "Let's get some chow from Thien."

After hesitating, Vex took it.

* * *

 **God guys, sorry for not posting! I had to study for finals :(, but don't worry, I'll be up and writing again! So starting this chapter the Glade really begins to spiral downwards. I decided to kill off Scott rather than Percy as I have plans for Percy in the Scorch Trials! I'd also want to leave off this chapter by saying Rest in Peace to Sir Christopher Lee, who you might know as Saruman from Lord of the Rings or Count Dooku from Star Wars. He died on the seventh of June, aged 93. Let us all take a moment to appreciate this magnificent man and his legendary works, and let him live on for eternity through his works as an actor.**

 **-LI**


	8. Chapter 8: Changed

"Alright, since Lee is not present, it being that he's going through the changing, I declare that this Gathering has officially started," Thien declared. "Everyone take your seats."

Just a few minutes earlier, Adrian and Percy had been shuffled into a room Adrian hadn't yet explored. It featured twelve chairs, three of which were empty; Adrian didn't need to be told. He had taken a seat in the chair closest to Benji and Percy; Percy's leg and just about half of his face was tightly bandaged.

"So what exactly happened while you were out there?" Adam asked.

"Who's point of view do ya want it from?" Percy asked in return.

"Let's have Vex first, then Percy, then the Greenie," Thien proposed.

"Alright then," Adam replied. "Vex."

Vex took a deep breath and then said, "Well, we were all sitting there after the dumb Greenie charged out to save the day, and Percy wanted to fight the Griever. Griever shows up, and then Scott comes tearing out of the Maze shrieking like Hugo did when he got stung. He yells something about how we can end it, and then attacks the Griever. Gets killed. We kill the Griever. Boom."

"Is this true?" Thien asked, looking at Percy and Adrian.

Adrian and Percy nodded, although Percy was clearly still sour over the whole thing.

"What about punishment?" Paul piped up, a cocky smile on his face. "These bags of cow klunk can't just get away with this."

Percy laughed. "Get away with what? Killing the worst thing in this shuck in this Maze save for your squeaky voice? I think we can be let off the hook for that one."

"Well, the Greenie did enter the Maze," Paul argued. "That's our number one, pal. No breakin' that. And you did too, Percy."

"Are you serious?" asked Kit, dumbfounded. "How can you be that shucking... _ugh_ , you're stupid! Lee let Percy into the Maze, dumbshuck!"

The Gathering broke into murmurs and whispers, which was quickly quieted down by Thien.

"He makes a valid point," Thien said. "Granted, nobody actually tried to step in and grab the shank, but he shouldn't have done that. Let's voice our punishments." And with that, he drew a notepad. "Benji?"

The Bagger leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees and his chin on his hands. "Ye, he broke our number one, but look at what he and Percy did; He killed a Griever. If he hadn't been there, I'd be willing to wager that Percy and Vex would be in a lot more pain if they even managed to kill it, and we wouldn't have our leader." Adrian felt like cheering; He knew he could trust him.

Thien scribbled something down. "So what do you say we do with him?"

"At worst, half a day in the Slammer. He should continue his training, but we need to get all we can out of 'im. How he fought, what weapon he used, how strong the attacks were, blah blah. Same with Percy and Vex."

"Alright then," Thien murmured. "Desmond?"

Desmond was a boy with shaggy, dirty-blonde hair and brown eyes; He looked like he was always deep in thought. "I shouldn't even be here. The Map-Makers aren't even an official job. But, if you insist, I'll give my thoughts. Yeah, the Greenie shucked up. But look at what he did. I say no punishment."

"Alright, glad to hear your input. How about you, Paul?"

Adrian cringed; A couple of the Keepers, including Kit, sighed loudly.

"Well," Paul started, causing more groans, "He should be Banished."

Someone shouted in anger, and the room broke into chaos. Thien stood up from his chair, and began clapping and shouting; Although with much difficulty, the room eventually quieted down.

"Absolutely not," Thien scoffed, seeming to cross something off on his notepad. "We can't go and Banish him, he was one of the key reasons that Lee survived."

"Actually, like, the reason. Vex was too busy sobbing about how he'd die," Percy interrupted.

"Hey, shut your shuck face!" Percy retorted. "You'll just have to 'scuse me for thinkin' we'd die."

"Both of you shanks slim it!" Thien ordered; They complied. "Back to Paul. What other punishments are on the table? Because banishment is certainly _off_ it."

Paul rubbed his chin, devoid of any facial hair, and then said hazily, "Slammer in a week then. Nothing but bread and water."

On they went. A few voted for Benji, a few voted for Desmond, and maybe one or two voted for Paul's idea. Then it came to Thien.

"As second-in-command of the Gladers, I am supposed to protect the Gladers and make sure nobody breaks the rules, all the while servin' them up some tasty grub. Adrian, you broke our number one rule, entering the Maze. Most of those who entered the Maze, save for the Runners, didn't survive to see the punishment of that rule. On principle, I should lock you in the Slammer for a week. But, according to Percy, you were the reason Lee lived. And for that, you shouldn't get a punishment. But a day in the Slammer ain't that bad, give you some time to relax and think about life. Come tomorrow, after breakfast Benji and myself will escort you to the Slammer."

"What?!" shouted Paul, standing up, knocking his chair over. "THAT IS HORSE KLUNK! HE BROKE OUR RULE! KILL HIM! KILL HIM NOW!"

" _Shut up_!" Rowan shouted. "Shut your shuck hole now, you bloody little shrimp!"

Paul responded by grabbing Rowan and slamming his head on the table. Rowan stood up so quickly it scared Adrian and punched Paul in the face, hard. Paul fell to the ground. Adrian watched, stunned at how abrupt the fight began. What had Paul done to Rowan? And why had Paul just flipped?

"For the love of shuck, calm down!" Thien commanded.

"You're all gonna die," sneered Paul, wiping blood from his face. "Every last one of ya."

"You wanna say that again?" Rowan asked, raising a fist.

Paul laughed, coughing a bit as he did. "I said all you shuck-faces are gonna burn."

Then Rowan, with a rage that Adrian didn't know had existed, leaped on top of Paul, swinging as hard as he could. Paul was shrieking, and Adrian had realized that the other Keepers were watching on, not doing a thing about it.

"I thought the one rule was to never harm another Glader," Adrian whispered to Percy.

Percy quietly chuckled. "Paul doesn't count."

After a full twenty seconds of just relentless annihilation on Rowan's side, Desmond and Vex rushed forward and managed to pull Rowan off. Paul scrambled to his feet and darted out of the door, giggling like a maniac as blood streamed down his face. The room in the silent was deafeningly silent.

"Well," Thien muttered, breaking the silence. "This Gathering is officially over."

The Keepers were shuffling out of their chairs when a Glader burst through the door; Glenn. Adrian smiled, as he hadn't spoken to him yet.

"Glenn, what are ya doin', ya muppet?" Rowan asked, agitated. "You of all people know better than to be bargin' into Gatherings."

"Sorry to interrupt," Glenn apologized, "But Paul just took off into the Maze."

 **oOo**

Rather than be awoken by the doors of the Maze opening, Adrian was awoken by shouts. Startled yelps. It took a moment for Adrian to realize that the sounds weren't of banter, but of confusion. Maybe even terror. Realizing that Paul might have come back and something, he jolted up in his sleeping bag, and wriggled out of it in a half-asleep panic. He took a few steps forward, and then looked up. And then that's why he knew they were yelling.

Paul was nowhere to be found. The sky had turned gray.

He stood there, stunned for a minute, just gazing up at the gray sky. The sun and the clouds were nowhere to be found, yet it was still bright out. The sun, the same sun that shone its ray down on the Gladers, the same sun that helped the Gladers grow the crops and the same sun that caused them to get all sweaty, was gone. Like someone grabbed it and replaced it with gray. And it wasn't a cloudy grey, just one flat color.

A few Gladers had already gotten bored and started their work, but the majority stood up gawking at the sky with blank faces and gaping mouths. Thien was trying to get their attention, clapping his hands and shouting. As Adrian watched from afar, slowly but surely every Glader turned their gaze from the sunless sky to the Cook.

"Everyone listen up!" Thien shouted. "We need to continue on as normal."

"What happened to the sun?"

"Why is the sky gray?"

"Is Lee dead?"

"What's going on?"

"All of you shanks slim it!" Thien ordered; All of the Gladers shut up almost immediately. Adrian had to give it to Thien, he was substituting as a leader pretty well. Thien seemed to wait years before continuing. "I know this is confusing," He said, his voice showing that he was trying to be brave but failing miserably, "But we need to keep it up. Scott said that we could beat them and end it. In Scott's honor, and for the honor of ourselves and all those who died in these past two years, we won't give up. We won't show the Creators that we could just our shuck butts beat around. We're gonna fight 'em."

"How?" Someone asked from the crowd.

"By not givin' a shinin' klunk!" Thien boomed, seeming to have recovered some of his courage; A few Gladers laughed.

"So...we just do nothing? Don't react? Just...business as usual?" Vex asked from the crowd.

"Exactly," Thien replied.

"Well, you heard the man!" Vex said. "Runners, get your stuff ready! We're heading out!"

The boys Adrian had seen running from the Maze into the Glade stepped forward. Among them was Hank. Adrian hadn't heard or seen Hank since that second day in the Maze. His whole posture shrieked of exhaustion; His eyes were empty, for lack of a better word, and his skin had turned noticeably paler since that day Vex hauled him into the Glade. The other Runners were cheering and hooting like idiots (As were most of the Gladers who were thrilled at the idea of finally fighting back against the Creators), but Hank was slouched over, stumbling like a zombie among the other Runners.

Trying to ignore it, he jogged to the horde of Gladers talking and cheering among themselves. He followed them into the Homestead, where he was greeted with a plate of hot toast, bacon, and eggs with some orange juice to top it off. Adrian took his seat and plopped down at a table surrounded by Gladers. Some of the Gladers scowled at him, but the rest were acting like they were long-lost brothers. They excitedly asked him about the Griever and how he did it; Rowan came by and shooed them all away before Adrian could answer their questions. Glenn and Dumbo, however, sat down next to them, and Rowan ignored the two, sensing they wouldn't pummel him with questions.

"Well, well, look who it is," said Dumbo, grinning widely from ear to ear. "The Griever slayer. A step up from Greenie, ain't it?"

Adrian smiled. "Sure is."

"Sucks that you're gettin' a day in the Slammer, though," Glenn said. "Shouldn't be that bad, though."

"What do you do in it?" Adrian asked.

"Eh, you just sorta sit in a dark metal room all day. Remember when I was a Bagger? Yeah, I used to take shanks who misbehaved to the Slammer. When I let them out, they were just beggin' to get back to work. I've never spent a day in it myself, but the ones who do say it's the most boring thing in the whole universe."

"They feedin' ya anything while you're in?" Rowan asked, who had taken a seat at the table.

Adrian shook his head. "No, I wish they were though."

"Well," replied Dumbo, a glint in his eyes, "They might not be feedin' ya anything, but lemme remind you that I'm one of the culinary experts of the Glade; Cook would also work. Regardless, I can decide whether you get fed or not." He then placed a small backpack on the table.

"What is it?" Glenn asked.

Dumbo's grin couldn't have grown any more. "Food, ya shank. A bottle of lemonade, because Kit tipped me off you liked that, a bottle of water, and two sandwiches. PB&J and turkey-and-cheese, take your pick. White bread. Sorry if you like wheat, we're fresh out."

Just days earlier, Adrian was convinced that everybody in the Glade didn't care about each other, that it was just work-work-work and nothing else. Of course, now, with all the friendly people around, he had been proven more than wrong. "Shuck...thanks, man. Means a lot."

Dumbo rose from his seat. "Anything for the Griever Slayer." And with that, he giggled like a maniac and walked off, tending to the needs of the other hungry Gladers.

"What a guy," Glenn muttered, lips pulled into a grin. "Knew he'd do that. Dumbo's a wild card, he is. Almost as wild as Snafu. Almost."

Adrian grabbed the backpack and put it on, felt the weight of the food. "Well, wild card or not, he's great." Running a hand through his hair, Adrian muttered, "I just need some time to relax. My mind's just been in a haze and maybe sittin' in a room all day will hit the spot."

"It shuckin' better," called out a familiar voice. Percy. Grinning, Adrian got out of the table after giving Glenn a goodbye salute. It was then when he turned to meet Thien, Benji, and Percy, bandages and all, who had joined party to the Slammer. Adrian strolled over to meet them.

"You ready, Griever Slayer?" Percy asked with that snarky grin that had grown so familiar over the past few days.

"You bet your butt I am," Adrian replied.

Thien snorted. "Better be, shank. Come with me."

The party of four navigated through the Gladers, who during their morning meal were sitting on the floor, eating at tables, draped over sofas, and sitting in chairs. The morning banter between the Gladers continued, but Adrian knew that unease and tension had spread through the teenagers like wildfire. Benji pushed open the screen doors to the Homestead, and Adrian left the Homestead, basking in the gray, dull sky, giving him a sense of dread in his gut. Thien kept looking forward as they moved towards the Slammer, but Percy gawked up at the sky with his one visible eye (The other side of his face was still heavily bandaged) and Benji looked at the dirt.

"Hey, Benji?" Percy asked.

"Yeah, Percy?"

"Do you think we'll make it through this?"

Benji seemed to pause before chuckling. "You bet your shuck butt we will, shank."

* * *

 **Hey! Thanks for reading! So stuff's going down for real! Paul flipped out for no reason and attacked Rowan and then subsequently got the crap beaten out of. I tried to make Paul seem like a nicer and more innocent kid (sorta like Chuck) at the beginning of the story to show that WICKED's control had influenced him. However, he had been treated poorly due to his position as a Slopper in the Glade, so he had some pre-existing hate for many of the Gladers beforehand. Regardless, the sky's turned gray and before long they'll find that the supplies haven't come up and the Maze Doors aren't closing (Oh no D:). This chapter may seem a bit rushed but school's over for me so I'll be able to write more so I'll make up for it! :D  
**

 **PS: I'm working on a website designed for the stories I've written! It being that I've only written (Actually, writing) one story, I haven't much to add to it, but I've added in many characters to try and make the Glade more homey rather than just being filled with nobodies, most of which died before being identified. Actually, come to think of it, about 90% of the minor Gladers in the Maze Runner books were killed before actually speaking. Frankie, Stan, Tim, Dave, the list goes on. I've even introduced another Keeper, Desmond. He'll play a bigger role in the Scorch Trials. Anyways, when it is good enough to be read, I'll post the link (Hoping that fanfiction doesn't block the link because I think they do that now). See you next chapter!**

 **-LI**


	9. Chapter 9: Lockdown

Adrian hadn't known if Thien himself had actually spent a day in the Slammer, but he could definitely guarantee that it was probably one of the worst punishments in the Glade. He had been led to a small, concrete room that only had a nearly-broken wooden chair in it and only had one window, which was narrow and barred at that. Adrian didn't know who he was before his memory was wiped, but he could assume that he wasn't prone to just sitting around all day. He also figured that before all of this, he used to be a very punctual person. Dumbo had packed a day's worth of food and water, but nothing to keep him busy, nor a watch. Not like he was angry at the guy for not packing any entertainment; For the love of shuck, he had stuck his neck out to pack food and water for him, but he was bored.

It felt to Adrian like a year passed with every second. It must have been ten millennia, sitting in that dank, cold prison when the Glade exploded into shouts and yelps. Rising from the creaky wooden chair, Adrian rushed forward to the stupid little window, trying to peer out. He could only see part of the Gardens from where he was, and he could see the Track-Hoes throwing their tools down and sprinting away. Some of the shouts broke into terrified screams, and then a booming voice yelled for order. A familiar voice. Lee's voice. Despite the sudden alarm, Adrian smiled at the thought of Lee recovering. Suddenly, Benji dashed from the corner of the Homestead, spear clutched in one hand, a pair of keys in the other. He stopped at the door to the Slammer, face stricken white, eyes wide open. He fumbled around before jamming the key in the lock, and then the door to the Slammer swung open.

"Benji?" Adrian asked, voice high with uncertainty and fear. "What's wrong?"

Benji seemed to take forever before replying, "Supplies. The shuck supplies didn't show up. Two years straight, we got supplies once a week. And now the sky goes gray and the supplies don't come up. That's what's wrong, Griever Slayer."

Before Adrian could follow up, Benji turned, sprinting faster than Adrian had even thought possible towards the hordes of other Gladers. Adrian followed, running as fast as he could.

Gladers were strewn about the Glade; The place was in chaos. Until that familiar voice shouted at them again.

"Hey, shanks! Why don't ya stop running around like a bunch of shuck-wits and calm down!" Lee shouted. Adrian looked towards the front door of the Homestead, and there Lee was. His face was pale, sunken in, but it was still Lee. He looked somber, but not as depressed as Hank did. Most of the Gladers noticed their recovered leader and started to hush up. It took all of five minutes for the entire Glade to go silent.

"Now, now, I know that the supplies ain't coming up, but that doesn't mean we're dead. Stay positive. 'Cuz when we ain't positive and working, we get lazy and sad. And when we get lazy and sad, we give up and then die. Who here wants to die?"

Silence.

"I thought so," Lee said. "Now let's get back to work, before the shuck Creators notice."

Adrian was surprised at how quickly the Gladers followed orders from Lee; Whatever he was doing those past two years, he was doing it right. As he stood there, someone tapped him on the shoulder. It was a boy Adrian didn't recognize.

"Hey," Adrian greeted cheerfully.

The boy returned the feeling. "Hey, Griever Slayer. Now I know this is gonna suck for you, and it sorta sucks for me, but I have to escort you back to the Slammer."

Adrian groaned. "That place is klunk, though. And who even are you?"

"Jordan," the boy replied with a grin; He recognized him from Snafu's story a few days ago. Jordan was maybe sixteen years old and had short, brown hair, hazel eyes, and a square jaw. His face just echoed friendliness, which made it all the more compelling to go spend a day in that hellhole of a prison. Reluctantly, Adrian complied and followed the Bagger to the cell. Once inside, Jordan closed the door and locked it. He looked up at Adrian and gave him a friendly smile, as if to say "It won't be so bad," and then hurried off. Adrian plopped down in the old chair.

This was going to take _forever_.

 **oOo**

Adrian felt like he had died eight times over when the door to the Slammer opened.

"Time's up, Griever Slayer," Lee said, grinning widely.

Adrian rose from the creaky chair and stepped outside the Slammer, breathing in the fresh air. He walked with Lee, trying to match his pace.

"How are you feeling?" Adrian asked.

"Weird," Lee replied. "Like I've been flipped inside out, gotten used to being inside out, and then was flipped back."

"What even happened?"

Lee stopped completely, just for a brief moment, before continuing. "I remember just a bit about my past life. Barely anything. Something or someone called WICKED, some kid named Alby, a little about how 'it's ending,' and that the world has ended."

"The world has ended?" Adrian asked; That didn't sound very good.

"Yeah," Lee replied. "Don't know how or why, but it's ended. Strange, the other poor shanks that went through the Changing talked about their past lives and that scum Charlie even talked about somethin' called the Scorch. I think it's more important that we killed a Griever and that _our_ little world is ending."

"What do you mean? We're still good," Adrian argued. "Plus, the Runners might find something new."

Lee shook his head. "No sun, no plants. Plants are food for the animals. No animals, no meat. No food. We starve. Plus, I'm gonna let you in on a little secret: The Maze has changed everyday for the past two years, but before long Vex and a couple other Runners figured out that the Maze sticks to a certain schedule. They might find somethin', but even if they found the way out we'd have to hurry the shuck up because we haven't a surplus of canned food. Plants haven't died yet and we still have plenty of animals, but it's only a matter of time."

Adrian opened his mouth to argue but stopped when Lee's wristwatch began to beep.

"Runners are here," Lee said.

As if on cue, eight Runners came tearing out of the Glade, heading straight for the Map Room. Vex and another boy with a crew cut break off from the Runners, running straight to Lee and Adrian. The other Runner tumbles to the ground at Adrian's feet, and Vex falters for a second before reaching Lee.

"Vex, Wes, what's wrong?" Lee asked.

"Hole," the boy on the ground, Wes, gasped.

"We...might...have found...a way," Vex panted.

"What?!" Lee nearly screamed. "You're not pullin' my leg, are you? If you are, I'm throwin' your shuck butt off the Cliff."

Wes laughed, getting up. "Funny...that you mention the Cliff...because that's exactly where we think the exit is."

"We should've known," Lee muttered. "We'll go tomorrow at first light."

"Forgettin' something, ain't ya?" Vex said. "Doors'll be closing in a few minutes."

"A few minutes?" Lee asked, glancing down at his watch. "But my alarm is set for 6:30."

"We came late," Wes said.

"What the...it's 7:50!" Lee shouted.

Wes and Vex's face went pale and they ran off, shouting orders at anyone close enough to hear.

Adrian was utterly confused. "What's wrong, Lee?"

"What's wrong, Greenie, is that the shuck Doors were supposed to close twenty minutes ago!"

 **oOo**

From what Adrian could tell, for the past two years Gladers had slept outside, and there just wasn't enough room for sixty teenagers in the Homestead. Lee, with a heavy heart, sent seven boys, including Bronson and Snafu, to the Bloodhouse, where it was barricaded heavily, much like the Homestead. Rowan and Desmond passed out blankets, pillows, and flashlights to almost everyone, and the Builders, under the guidance of Matt and Kit, boarded up the Homestead as best as they could, and by eight o' clock, the Gladers were shuffled into the Homestead where the door was closed, locked, and barricaded with a sofa. Lee ordered for all of the lights to be snuffed out, as if that would deter the Grievers. Adrian ended up in the upstairs infirmary, with Kit, Spencer, Lee, Thien, Dumbo, and another boy whose name Adrian didn't know. Despite the sheer amount of boys in the Homestead, a terrified silence hung over the Gladers like a plague. Dumbo's ears seemed to have shrunk in terror and the other boy was biting his fingernails. Lee was staring absently at the wall, as if he was lost. Thien kept rubbing his neck and Spencer's hand was shaking. Kit, however, was different. His hands were shaking slightly, but he sipped on his thermos filled with lemonade, trying to remain as calm as possible. After an eternity, the boy Adrian didn't know spoke.

"They're not here yet," he said in a hushed whisper. "Maybe...maybe they left."

Adrian shook his head slightly. "I don't know a lot about the Creators, but I know they won't just leave the Doors open for effect. They're coming."

The boy lay down and pulled the covers over his body. "You're probably right. False hope is better than no hope, though."

Adrian sat there for a few minutes, and was about to ask Kit how he'd become so calm when he heard it.

The noises. A faint moan from outside the Homestead.

It had begun.

Adrian tried to shrink into the wall, pulling the covers up to his chest, like a little kid that thought the monsters couldn't get him if he hid under the covers.

"Down, down, away from the wall," Lee whispered, backing up. The whirrs, clicks, and moans that signaled a Griever grew louder. Adrian felt the panic turn to terror, but he tried his best to stay calm. Kit's hands were shaking more but he still sipped on his lemonade, still calm as ever, even though fear was etched on the faces of everyone else in the room. A terrible grinding sound filled the air, and before long Adrian realized it was climbing the wall. Its huge, bulbous shape cast a shadow on the window, one of the only ones that hadn't been boarded up. The room seemed to have frozen in place as hot fear shot through Adrian's system as the Griever stopped, sat outside the window, moaning louder. It seemed like the room was about to unfreeze when the door slammed open, and panicked yelps shook the room. The Griever's whirring grew louder is it confirmed its prey, but Adrian looked towards the door, expecting to find a frightened boy. Instead, he found something a thousand times more terrifying.

Paul.

Paul's eyes raged with a mixture of terror, anger, lunacy, sadness, and agony. He had a limp before, but now it seemed both of his legs were wounded as he stumbled towards the group of petrified teenagers.

"It's over!" Paul shrieked, giggling like a psychopath. "It's all over!"

"Paul, shuck up!" the boy who Adrian had never talked to hissed. "There's a shuck Griever outside! You wanna get us killed?"

Paul giggled again, this one more deranged. "Exactly, Bernard! I want you all to die! Don't worry though, that'll happen soon enough!"

Suddenly, in an explosion of glass and wood, the window burst open, and part of the Griever's slimy, disgusting body shone through the hole in the room. It hadn't fully gone through, but was trying to wriggle through.

"Once a night!" Paul screamed, brandishing a knife. "You all die once a night! You hear? Once. A. _Night_!"

"Paul, put the knife down," Kit commanded sternly, rising to his feet. "Don't be stupid."

Another giggle. "Why? You'll die anyways."

Kit took one step towards Paul, and then Paul flipped. Shrieking like a madman, he rammed into Kit's side, causing him to fall down, gasping for air. Evading Thien and Dumbo's attempts to grab him, he ran out of the room, screaming about "once a night" while laughing.

From outside of the Homestead, there was a loud crash and then a bloodcurdling scream that was louder than the Griever trying to get at them. After a few seconds, the scream was cut short. Adrian was so stunned that he barely noticed the Griever had left.

 **oOo**

Adrian peered out of the broken window. About six Grievers were going towards the North Door, and the figure of a teenage boy was clutched in one of the Griever's claws. The Bloodhouse had a huge gaping hole in it, and six boys were sprinting out of the Bloodhouse towards the Homestead. The Homestead itself was in chaos. Gladers ran out of the rooms, yelling. Flashlights and torches lit up the Glade like a fireworks show, and shouts echoed through the Glade. Adrian ran out of the room, shoving past Gladers unfortunate enough to be in his way. He bounded down the stairs and out the front steps of the Homestead, where the six Gladers were, being questioned by Lee.

"What happened?" Adrian asked.

"The Grievers..." murmured a boy whose face was white. "They came in and...grabbed Bronson. He started screaming, so they stabbed him with something. I don't know what that thing had on it...but he's dead."


	10. Chapter 10: Escape (?)

After it seemed like forever, dawn shone on the Glade once more. Well, not really dawn, since the sky's color had barely changed throughout the night. Same old gray sky, glum as ever. Adrian felt a numbness as he put on a backpack handed to him by one of the Runners. Bronson wasn't his best friend by any means, but he was still a friendly face in the Glade, and now he was gone. Dead, according to the Gladers who were in the Bloodhouse with him. And even so, the fact that he was dragged into the Maze by a bunch of Grievers doesn't allow much room for optimism. Bronson was dead, and that was that.

"Hey, Griever Slayer!" Vex said, snapping his fingers. "Earth to Griever Slayer?"

"What?" Adrian asked, blinking as he came out of his daze. "Oh, yeah. Sorry."

"It's fine, I just wanna hurry. Staying out of the Glade gives me the creeps."

"Got that right," Wes added. "Feels like I'm being watched. Well, I am. By the Beetle Blades, of course. But like, by a Griever."

"Yeah, with the Grievers mucking about in the Glade, it just makes me wonder what they're doing outside," another Runner said.

"You cannot swim for new horizons until you have courage to lose sight of the shore," said another one of the Runners.

"Is that another one of your quotes, Callum?" Wes asked.

The boy smiled faintly. "Sure is. Don't know who said it, though."

"Callum, you don't remember who said any of your quotes," Vex said.

"That's true," Callum, a tall Asian boy who sported a fohawk, replied. "Sort of a side effect of having your mind wiped."

"Alright, enough yappin', let's find our way out of this mess," one of the other Runners said, impatiently tapping his foot.

"Fair enough, Evan. Let's go," Vex replied, and the Runners started to walk into the Maze, with Lee and Adrian on their heels. They went about twenty feet before the lot of them broke into a jog, and then a full-blown run. Adrian was, understandably, in worse shape than the boys who ran around all day for two years, and before long he was out of breath.

"Aw, come on now, Griever Slayer," Wes said after a half-hour or so, falling back to match Adrian's pace. "You can do it. Not much longer now."

"Where...are...we going?" panted Adrian; his lungs were on fire.

"The Cliff," Wes replied.

"What's the Cliff?"

"You'll see. We're here."

The Runners had stopped, walking towards the gray, empty sky. Adrian felt excited; Was this the exit?

As if Vex had read his thoughts, he said, "No, Greenie. This isn't a way out. We found it sometime last year." There was a pause, and then he quickly followed up with, "Careful, you won't be the first kid to fall off."

The Cliff was aptly named. It was like the Creators had just up and stopped building the Maze, paving way to miles of empty space. It was just that same, gray, dull color. It was an illusion. Had to be. The Maze wasn't just _floating_. That just...wasn't possible.

"So, what did you two discover?" Lee asked. "Why are we even at the Cliff?"

"Well, Wes and I went here to see if anything changed," Vex replied. "We stayed here for just about the entire day. When we were packing up, Wes got frustrated and threw a rock. It just...disappeared. Faded into thin air. We got so excited we ran all the way back."

"So what do you mean? There's some invisible portal?" Lee asked.

Vex smiled. "Bingo. But we need more time to figure out how big it is and— you hear that?"

The group went silent. Sure enough, there was a distant sound. Getting louder.

"Something's coming," Lee said. "Everyone, up against the wall!"

Adrian and the others rushed to the sides of the Maze, trying to shrink into the vines. sounds got louder, the familiar moan and accompanying machinery noises followed.

"Griever," Callum whispered.

Callum was right. It was a Griever. After what must have been a full two minutes, a Griever came hurtling around the edge of the Maze. Someone yelped, and Adrian felt his blood run cold with terror. The Griever ignored the Gladers, moving extraordinarily fast towards the Cliff. After a brief moment of hesitation, the Griever leapt off the edge, disappearing into thin air.

Evan's voice was shaky. "Did...did that just happen?"

"Yea, yea," Wes said, walking towards the Cliff. "I think I found the portal, though."

"You what?" one of the Runners asked.

"My eyes were glued to the Griever the whole time," Wes said to nobody in particular. "It jumped off the edge and just...vanished."

"Yeah, most of us were," Lee replied. "What are you gettin' at?"

Wes seemed to take forever to respond. "What I'm getting at is that when I threw the rock yesterday, it disappeared in a certain area of the sky-thing. The Griever jumped into that part."

"So the Griever jumped into the portal?" Adrian asked.

Wes turned and his eyes light up. "Yes, exactly!"

"Forgive me for sounding skeptical," one of the Runners, a short boy with a buzz cut, started, "But even if we pinpoint exactly where this portal is, I'm not too keen on just hoppin' on in. It seems that the Grievers, like, live there. Go there during the day. Recharge. We're jumpin' right into the lion's den."

"But it's probably the only way out," another argued. "I don't think the Creators are gonna give us another way out of the Maze." He paused before chuckling. "Seems logical the shuckheads would put the escape in the shuck Griever Hole. Regardless, even if they did have another way out, we don't have the time. The sun seems to have up and gone away and from what Paul was screaming about, one of us dies every night. We need to make our escape."

"We need to make sure," Lee said. "We can't just jump in. Maybe it was some illusion. I don't want us all to go running into the Maze only for it to be nothing."

"So what're you saying?" Vex asked.

"We should let two people stay out in the Maze. Give them supplies for a day or two and give them our best weapons. Wes, Vex, I'm thinkin' you two. If the Grievers really come in and out, you two will know for sure. If so, we'll take our Gladers and then lead an attack on the Grievers. There's probably a button or switch there, something to switch them off. Adrian and myself will head down there and check it out while the rest of you are holding them back. We go down, flip the switch, and the survivors head down, boom. We're done."

"And how do you know there will be a switch?" the short, skeptical Runner asked.

Lee showed the slightest signs of a smile. "Oh, I know. Trust me."

 **oOo**

It was late by the time Adrian had arrived. When the party of ten came back from the Maze, Gladers swarmed them, asking questions. Almost all of them had a childlike tone in their voice, as if they thought they had really been rescued after two years. Lee told them all they were working on it, and then ordered them all inside. Thien gave them a dinner of chicken and rice. Not exactly a feast but it would hold Adrian down until the morning. If he even survived that long.

Adrian ended up downstairs. Kit had been replaced by Glenn, who kept to himself, tossing and turning in his sleeping bag. Adrian and a few other new arrivals in the room couldn't sleep, trying their best to fade into unconsciousness, to escape the harsh reality of their world, but ultimately failing. Nobody spoke, nobody dared to draw attention to themselves, to risk their lives. Outside, the haunting sounds of the Grievers resumed, signaling the beginning of night. Adrian sat up against the wall, Bernard sitting next to him, eyes as wide as tennis balls, begging the Grievers not to grab him, not to grab _anyone_. After what seemed like hours, there was another explosion, coming from upstairs. Bernard flinched, and Adrian felt his muscles freeze as screams echoed through the Homestead. There were the terrified screams, but a horrified hair-rising shriek for help, from the boy who had been grabbed, rose above all the other ones, made Adrian want to rip his ears off.

"It grabbed Bruno!" someone screamed as the group thudded down the stairs.

"Bruno?" Dumbo asked, rising to his feet. "Did you say it grabbed Bruno?"

"Y-Yeah," a Glader whose face was as white as a ghost replied. "It was just...on him."

Adrian got his feet and ran out of the Homestead, shoving past the Gladers. The pack of Grievers, just like last night, were going towards the North Door. Adrian broke into a run, and before long he found that Wes and Vex were running alongside him. In the distance, boys shouted at them to stop, but Adrian didn't care. Adrian followed the Grievers for a good thirty-five minutes to the Cliff. As expected, they all leapt, one by one, into the invisible portal, disappearing from sight.

"Boys," said Vex in the silence, "I think we just found our way out."

* * *

 **Hey! Sorry for the abrupt ending in both this chapter and last chapter, but I was just exhausted and I wanted to give you guys a free chapter. I've got most of the story mapped out, including the Scorch and the Death Cure part. The Death Cure part, though, isn't nearly as daring or long as the one in the book. Just keep an eye out for Johnathan ;). I also used a submitted character for once, the only one I've used ever. The thing is, I don't want to screw up someone's vision of a great character because I get too pressured. The character I used was Callum, a "very zen" Runner who likes to quote stuff. Pretty cool and unique imo, because most of the Gladers are a bunch of teenage boys who act like idiots half the time. Anyways, see you all next chapter! :D  
**

 **-LI**


	11. Chapter 11: Heroes

WICKED Memorandum

Date 232.1.20, Time 17:38

TO: My Associates

FROM: Ava Paige, Chancellor

RE: THOUGHTS ON MAZE TRIALS, TRIALS 1.5, 1.6, 1.7

 _The Maze Trials appear to be coming to a close. Group B has already discovered our mapping system, as has Group A. Thus far, two subjects from each Group have been taken. The list goes as follows: Subjects A20 and A28, "Gally" and "Adam," Subjects B17 and B52, "Calla" and "Rose," and Subjects C47 and 46, Bronson and Bruno. Group C, however, has shown strange behavior. Subject C15, Wes, and Subject C-4, Vex, have already found the Rabbit Hole, naming it the Griever Hole after the creations in the Maze designed to hunt them. Group C is currently undergoing Trial 1.5, "The Taking," yet has solved Trail 1.6, "The Discovery," quite easily. Strange, it is._

 _Regardless, I (And I presume you all as well) are very excited to see how each group reacts to Trial 1.7, "Accendo." Our researchers have estimated that fifty to sixty percent of the remaining subjects will, in fact, be terminated._

 _Another, very minor change in Group C's Scorch Trials:_

 _Johnathan Armstrong, the designer of our surveillance beetles, will be giving Group C their speech at the start of the Trials. He has been given 72 hours to prepare. I feel as if he is very suited for the job and will do it with ease, as he has been following Group C's progress the most and is incredibly eager to meet them._

 _WICKED is good._

* * *

The Glade was depressed, for a lack of a better term. Most of the Gladers still had a small flicker of hope within them, but around ten had given up their day jobs, resorting to just skulking around. The Glade was filled with the sounds of work, but not of the sounds of banter and laughter. Adrian himself was more hopeful than others, but he still felt like it was all in vain. Wes and Vex, probably the most courageous of the Gladers, had packed their backpacks to the brim with food and water and had taken two long, slender swords (of the like Adrian had never even known about) into the Maze. Vex had also ordered the other Runners to not go out, in the event a Griever does nab another Runner, it being that they didn't have the time to let a boy go through the Changing.

Adrian himself was put in the infirmary, although he was supposed to work with the Cooks next. Not like it made much of a difference, they probably wouldn't be here a week from now. Regardless, it was a relief, working with Glenn and Justin. Aaron wasn't very talkative, but Justin said that he was just a bit shaken up after the night before, as he was in Bruno's room. When it came to the learning part, it seemed that the Med-jacks had also lost the will to teach Adrian, and instead just gave him a small pamphlet on how to stitch up a wound. He just sat there for the rest of the day, looking over every little detail while the Med-jacks talked to each other about the old times in the Glade. Through earshot, Adrian learned that there was an original group of fifty-one (All of the Med-jacks were in that original group), and the first boy to come up was a boy named Caleb, who had "klunked himself eight times over when he showed up." He learned that eight Gladers had gone through the Changing that were still alive, and that Vex had been stabbed three times by Grievers over the course of two years. Not much else was important, they just talked to themselves about distant memories and getting out of the Maze and about all of those who had died. When seven 'o clock came around, Adrian was the first out of the Homestead to meet them.

"What'd you find?" Adrian asked, excited as ever to meet them.

"We saw a Griever jump into the hole, but that's about it," Vex replied, wiping sweat from his brow.

"Do you think we can escape?" Lee asked, appearing out of the blue with Thien.

"That depends on a lot of things," Wes replied. "Vex and I took a few of the vines and we threw them over the portal, but you have to aim real good or you'll be falling for all eternity. I'd say it's a three-foot jump, but that in itself is only a guess."

"Well, that portal's our only chance," Thien said. "We should leave as soon as possible."

"If we're gonna leave, we're gonna leave during the night, and we don't have enough time to prepare everyone," Lee countered. "Let's call a Gathering tomorrow morning and then ask the Gladers if they're gonna come."

"Fair enough," Thien sighed.

And then the preparations began.

The Builders boarded up the gaping holes left by the Grievers that grabbed Bronson and Bruno, and Lee ordered Snafu into the Slammer and the rest of the Gladers who had hid in the Bloodhouse into the Homestead. The end result was safe enough but stuck out like a sore thumb. Lee shuffled everyone in after a meal of roast beef and corn that sank to the bottom of Adrian's stomach. And then the night begun. Adrian felt a strange wave of calmness wash over him, and impossibly, he slept.

Until the Griever broke in.

Adrian's light sleeping was broken by the familiar explosion of wood and the following screams. Adrian felt his blood run cold yet again, and recoiled at the noise, trying to hide under the covers of his sleeping bag. Boys screamed in terror and Adrian heard the thuds of their shoes hitting the wooden floor of the Homestead. One of the Gladers, in a blind panic, ran into the room Adrian was in, clumsily tripping over himself and smashing his face into the floor.

"Ross, what the shuck happened?" Bernard asked, rising from his spot in the corner to help him up.

Ross, apparently the boy who fell, struggled to his feet. "H...Hunter...it got Hunter."

 **oOo**

"As leader of the Gladers and of the Council, I declare that this Gathering has officially started," Lee stated, taking his seat in his chair.

Adrian had been taken into the meeting room once again, this time without the company of Percy. He had been put in the same chair, yet one was empty. Hunter's, of course. Poor guy. He didn't deserve that.

"So, what's all this about?" Rowan asked, sitting up in his chair. "Why in bleedin' hell did you call this Gathering? There's work to be done."

"Well, Wes and Vex here have something to say. Gentlemen, if you will," Lee replied.

Wes and Vex, both looking tired as ever, both stood up. "We've found an exit," Vex flatly said.

The room broke into murmurs before Vex had even finished the last word. Lee managed to shush them after a full five minutes, where he nodded at Wes to continue.

"What type of exit?" Desmond asked.

"Alright, so you'll be thinkin' that we've been eating our meals with Thien's special sauce, but we found a real, honest-to-shuck exit," Wes said.

"Where is it?" Benji asked.

Vex took a deep breath before replying. "It's the Cliff. It's...invisible. The Grievers come in and out of there to recharge. So it's essentially their home."

To Adrian's surprise, the room was quiet.

"So do we all just jump in there and then that's it?" someone asked.

"Yes. No. Sorta," Lee replied. "I don't know. The Grievers could just take one kid or orchestrate a full-scale battle. In the event of a battle, which is likely, myself and the Griever Slayer will run in, jump into the hole, and flip the switch or press the button. The Grievers shut down, we're set."

"How do you know for sure there's an exit?" Justin asked.

"Because we were sent here for a reason. Rats in the Maze to see if they could find their way out. Why would they just put us here for two years and waste all this money just to snuff us out, once a night? If we lead an attack, a lot of us will die. It'll be a bloodbath. But there will be an exit. A button. Has to be. But they're waiting."

"So say the Grievers don't swarm us all in the Maze," Kit proposed. "You know that means that we'll have to throw some poor kid to the Grievers."

"Actually, I don't think we have to choose," Adrian replied. "I think the Grievers are programmed to kill a specific person each night, not just randomly pick. The first night, it was Bronson. The second, Bruno. The third, Hunter. The fourth, maybe Aaron. And so on. We won't have to pick."

"Yeah, but we're just gonna let some kid get mauled to pieces just so we can escape. I could be playing devil's advocate here, but I don't want to just...let the Grievers kill a Glader who's walked the same earth, ate the same food as us. Ain't one of our rules to not harm another Glader? Letting one die is the same thing. And you know that klunk isn't gonna be quick. It's a _Griever._

"Oh, don't worry," Rowan said. "Don't worry just a bit. I feel there's gonna be a fight."

"Anyone else have anything else to say?" Lee asked.

Silence.

"Alright then, we'll go down the line. Each Keeper, tell me if you agree or disagree with this plan. We'll come to a conclusion based on your claims. Vex?"

"Agreed."

"Benji?"

"I agree."

"Kit?"

"Agreed."

"Desmond?"

"Agreed."

"Thien?"

"Agreed."

"Justin?"

"Agreed."

"Rowan."

"Shuckin' shuckity shuck shuck agree my butt off."

"Adam?"

"Agreed."

Lee grinned. "Well, boys, I guess we have a battle to fight."

 **oOo**

Every single boy agreed to go to the Maze. Every last one. All fifty-six boys. Vex and Rowan set to distributing weapons. Swords, barbwire-wrapped clubs, knives tied to sticks, anything that could be made into a weapon was made into a weapon. Benji and a few others crammed burlap sacks and backpacks full of food and water and gave them out. The end result was a pitiful, untrained army, but an army nonetheless. Thien gave them one last meal. Buttered corn, bread, chicken, and steak. It tasted so good to Adrian, but the butterflies in his stomach didn't let him appreciate it. The Gladers were willing to fight, but that didn't mean they were happy. A mist of unhappiness hung over the Gladers as they ate, like prisoners eating their last meal before being carted off to execution.

"Hey, you're Adrian, right?" a boy said to Adrian at dinner. "Griever Slayer?"

Adrian gave his best attempt at a smile. "That would be me. What do you need?"

The Glader let out what was supposed to be a laugh, but was a nervous huff. "Nothing. Just...remind me to stay close to you."

"Sure thing."

After dinner, which was served later than usual, the Gladers were all herded out into the part of the Glader right before the North Door. There Lee gave a small speech.

"Gladers!" he shouted. "Some of you I've known for two months, some I've known for two years, but to me it feels like all of us are family. Not all of us that were with us in the beginning have lived this far, many have arrived later on. We've made it this far without crashing and burning, and a few petty Grievers aren't gonna get in the way of us gettin' home." He raised his machete in the air. " _Who's with me?!_ "

The Gladers started to cheer and shout as Lee turned on his heels and sprinted into the Maze. The pack of roaring boys ran after him, weapons raised. Adrian followed, with Glenn and a few of his newly-acquainted friends at his side. As they ran deeper and deeper into the Maze, Adrian realized how loud it was. He had only really ventured into the Maze, and that was with nine other boys. With fifty-six other roaring, shouting boys, the noise was enough to frighten off any Griever. Unlike the Runners, most of the other boys weren't used to running for so long, and many were gasping in breaths of fresh air, panting and wheezing loudly, although nobody stopped running. After what seemed like a run across the Earth and back, the line stopped. Adrian maneuvered his way through the crowd, and saw why they had stopped.

Five Grievers stood side-by-side, blocking the way to the Cliff. Adrian was about to ask Lee what they should do when he was cut off by loud machinery. A quick glance showed the five more Grievers had positioned themselves on each corridor, surrounding the Gladers.

"Well, then, nothing to do but fight, I guess," Vex muttered. He took a few steps forward, then turned to face the crowd. "For the ones we've lost! For our freedom! For our families!" He then raised his sword in the air. "NOW!"

" _ **TILL YOUR LAST BUGGIN' BREATHS, LADS**_!" Rowan screamed, rushing forward with his barbwire-wrapped club. The horde of charging teenage boys followed suit, waving their weapons in the air, bellowing war cries. Adrian felt like a coward, standing there with Lee. Lee had a bow, and shot at Grievers with amazing precision, hitting his mark every time. Adrian cringed as the sounds of human met metal, of the Grievers shrieking in pain and of boys screaming in both rage and agony. Adrian watched as boys that smiled to Adrian over dinner were stabbed and cut. He watched in terror as Jordan and another boy were driven to the edge of the Cliff and then a Griever charged them, sending Jordan, the other boy and the Griever plummeting off the Cliff. Callum and Vex were both hacking at a Griever, dodging the attacks with ease. Grievers shut down and boys collapsed on the ground as they bled out. Screams for help echoed off the stone walls of the Maze, and Adrian could only watch as boys sacrificed themselves for him. He watched on as Rowan held in nasty shoulder wound with one hand, swinging his weapon at the Griever with the other.

"Now, they've made an opening!" Lee yelled, throwing the bow aside. He was right; A very narrow gap had been formed by the Gladers fighting so desperately for their freedom. Adrian seized the chance, running alongside Lee towards the gap in the cliff. A Griever started to move towards them but Bernard cut it off, plunging his spear in the bulbous creature's skin. They kept running, and more Gladers ran alongside them. A Griever came in to attack but Callum appeared out of nowhere, swinging his sword like a samurai as he kept the Griever at bay. They reached the Cliff, and Adrian hesitated for a brief moment before leaping in. His feet went in first, then his waist, then the rest of his body.

It was dark, but not too dark. Lee landed next to him.

"Where do you think it is?" Adrian whispered.

"There!" Lee exclaimed, pointing to a big red button on a wall maybe fifty feet away. Lee took a step forward, but was abruptly tackled by a Griever.

"Lee!" Adrian shouted.

"Just go!" Lee cried back in return, retrieving a dagger and shoving it into the Griever as it wailed in agony.

Adrian didn't need to be told twice; He sprinted forward, ignoring other Grievers emerging from slender, oval-like pods, and got to the wall. Something slashed his leg, he fell, got right back up. Limping, he reached the button, slammed it as hard as he could.

For a full five seconds, everything went dark.

And then he was up again. All of the Grievers, numbering around fifteen or so, were all shut down, their nasty weapons folded inside of them. Their lights were off. They were...dead. Shut down.

"Did...Did that just happen?" Lee gasped, getting to his knees, and then to his feet.

"I...think it did," Adrian replied.

And then someone came through the portal.

Percy.

The boy was scratched, bleeding, or bruised almost on his entire body; His hair was matted to his head with sweat and blood and half of his face was still bandaged, but that signature grin was there.

"Hey boys," Percy panted. "So...you beat 'em."

"That we did," Lee replied. "How is it up there?"

Percy's grin fell. "It's just a bloodbath. I'm guessing twenty-five give or take a few, died. All the young kids kicked the bucket. Jordan didn't make it, either. And I didn't see Rowan up there."

"What?" Lee asked. "Did Rowan..."

"I don't know," Percy quickly replied. "I just don't know. There was just so much blood, so many bodies, I didn't want to look."

And then Thien came through. And then Vex. Benji. The Runner who was skeptical of the escape. Callum. Dumbo. Soon thirty-one battered, bruised, and broken teenage boys joined them in the room. And nobody said a word for a very, very long time.

After what must've been ten minutes of silence, without saying another word, Lee took lead, dusting off himself, aiming towards a corridor. The Gladers, too weak to resist (or care) followed them, murmuring to themselves. The nervous boy Adrian had talked to at dinner was among the survivors, but his face was devoid of all emotions. Spencer, the kind soul who talked to him on his second day in the Glade, was also among the survivors, but was limping heavily, needing to lean on Kit for support. Lee went to the end of the corridor, and threw open a door. He took a step forward and then fell out of sight, disappearing with a startled scream. Without even calling, a Glader dove forward. Then another. One by one, the Gladers disappeared from sight, shouting and hooting as they fell. When the boy in front of Adrian went, he leaned forward, seeing a slide. Too tired to care anymore, he leaned in, nearly falling over, and tumbled into the chute. The chute reeked of burnt plastic and oil, and it made Adrian's stomach recoil in disgust. Adrian was about to retch when he flew out of the chute, landing on a pile of Gladers, squirming to get up. Once everyone had righted themselves, Adrian realized with dread what they were looking at.

They were in a large, white room, filled with all sorts of machinery and computers. But that wasn't what got their attention. It was the twenty windows, with people staring back at them. They looked like ghosts; sunken-in eyes, pale skin. Time slowed as everyone gaped at them in stunned rage. And then, two large double doors opened and a woman and a shorter person, maybe a child, walked in. She was dressed very ordinarily: Black pants, a navy-blue shirt with a lab coat that stitched "wicked" across the left breast. The child wore the same pants and a gray sweatshirt, but his face was masked as he was looking at the floor.

"Wow," the woman said. "Two years and so many survivors. Thirty out of seventy-five. Extraordinary."

"Hey, lady," Dumbo interjected; his voice was laced with hatred. "There's thirty-one of us, you shucking..."

"Everything has gone according to plan, Joshua," the woman replied calmly. She then reached over and pulled the hood off of the boy.

Paul. It was Paul.

"What the shuck is that filth doing here?" Bernard shouted.

"Please, Bernard, I ask that you calm down. Be at ease."

Bernard snorted. "At ease? You see what we just went through? Pretty hard to be at ease when-"

"Bernard, enough," Lee said; Bernard growled but quieted down. Lee looked at Paul. "Paul, what's happening?"

Paul's eyes were bloodshot, his leg was still torn and bloody, and his face was pasty. "I...sorry," he gasped out as more words burst from his mouth. "They...can...c-control me..."

"Paul, calm down, it's okay," Glenn said. "It's over."

Paul shook his head so fast it seemed inhuman. "N-no...Glenn...y-you don't understand...it's not okay." With that, he brandished a long, slender, menacing dagger. "I didn't...want...to...in the Glade."

"Paul, put the blade down," Adrian warned.

Tears were spilling from Paul's face. "I'm...so...sorry."

Paul raised the knife, and what happened next was a blur.

All he could remember afterwards was Matt on the ground, thrashing, blood pouring out of the knife wound in his throat. There was Kit on Paul, wailing on him, slamming his fists down on the boy again and again as inhumane sounds from both Kit and Paul as he was beaten. Then there was Vex and Thien, pulling Kit off of him as he cried for his friend. Gunshots. The other lady dying. The ghost people dying. Being escorted onto a bus, sitting next to a sobbing Kit, and being carried into a room and being served pizza. Actual, greasy, extra-cheese pizza. Being shuffled into a room with bunk beds, taking the top one. Fading off into sleep.

 _It was over_ , he kept saying in his mind.

 _It was over._

 _It was over._


	12. Chapter 12: Chaos

When Adrian awoke, it was early. His wristwatch read 7:20. He yawned, listening to Snafu snore like a pig below him. In the early light, he looked over to the opposite bunks. To his left, Kit, curled up in the fetal position. Understandable, considering his best friend died last night. To his right, Dumbo. Strange, his ears seemed to have shrunk since the fight with the Grievers. He stretched, groaning a little while he was at it, and half-jumped, half-rolled off the bed. He took a few steps towards the curtain, and lowered it.

And it all went downhill from there.

The window exploded, nearly sending glass into his face hadn't he screamed and fell back at what was there. Within a span of ten seconds, the other windows broke and insane shrieks filled the air. Behind him, Gladers stirred, and began to yelp and shout at what awaited them behind the windows. Adrian got up, terrified, and backed up. At each window, there were people behind metal bars. People wouldn't be the right word. Their skin was bruised and blistered with multiple scars and sores; Their eyes were bloodshot and showed no sanity.

"Kill me!" giggled the man at Adrian's window. "Do it! Do it do it do it! I'm a Crank! Crank, Crank, Crank! Kill me!"

All of the other twenty-nine Gladers who had survived this far were panicking. Percy was yelling something at one of the people, Adrian thought he heard Crank, but no effect was being had.

"Adrian!" Lee shouted over the chaos.

Adrian turned towards Lee. "You seein' this?!"

Lee's face was grim. "Yeah, yeah, I'm seein' this. We mustn't have seen them when we came in last night. Thank shuck for those metal bars."

Thien popped up out of nowhere. "This is shucked, man. We've got to get out of here. Where's Vex?"

"Here," Vex replied; Adrian hadn't even realized the older boy was standing beside him. "Where's Rowan?"

Lee frowned, letting his head sink. "Not here," he replied, tone alone telling the others that Rowan wasn't here. Adrian couldn't believe that he was dead. No way. Rowan wasn't dead. He couldn't be.

"I really wish these shuckin'...Cranks would can it before I shove a hammer down their shuckin' throats," Vex growled, turning towards one of the Cranks, a woman with a nasty scar that ran along her whole face. "Hey! Shut up now!"

The woman barely seemed to have noticed him.

Thien sighed. "Oh well, let's try to bash open that door." Thien, of course, was referring to the door that led to the dining area where they had eaten pizza.

"You sure it's not unlocked?" Adrian asked. "We shouldn't just go around breaking crap."

"Nah, that klunk's locked tighter than Thien's pantry," Vex replied. "Wes already tried it out, and when that didn't work, I tried. Locked."

Lee moved towards the door, and the rest followed. Soon, a couple Gladers caught on that there was an escape being planned, and started to crowd around the four. Before long, the Gladers formed a huddled crowd around the door. Thien reached out, tried the door. Locked.

"Wow, nice one," snorted Vex. "Real genius over here."

"Can we pick it?" Thien asked, ignoring Vex. "Kit, didn't Will say he could pick a lock?"

"Will died in the Maze," Kit replied harshly. "Plus we probably don't even have the items needed to pick it."

"Brute force, then," Adrian suggested.

"That'd work if we had something to break the lock," Lee replied.

"Here," Spencer grunted, walking towards them with a fire extinguisher. "Take this before I drop it, my muscles are still sore from yesterday."

"Thanks, Spence," Thien grinned, taking the fire extinguisher. The Cook raised the extinguisher, and brought it down. The lock smashed instantly, and the door creaked open to pitch-black darkness.

"Well," Vex muttered. "Who's going first?"

"I've got this," Percy declared, and rushed into the room before anyone could grab him.

"Percy!" Lee shouted in. "You alright? It's okay in there?"

There was a loud cough before his reply. "Yeah, but it smells like something died in here. I'll try to find a light switch, I'm pretty sure I saw one near this other door." There was a pause before a loud bang and a grunt. "Careful, there's tables. Wait, is this...got it!"

The florescent lights flickered on, and Adrian stepped into the room.

He really wished he hadn't.

Behind him, boys shouted in terror as they flooded the room. Gladers gagged, trying to look away; One even fell over a table and retched.

People were hung by the throats all over the ceiling. Their throats were purple, their skin pale, their eyes glazed over. As Adrian glanced over each one, he started to realize something.

These were the people who rescued them the night before.

"Shuck, man...you seein' this?" Vex asked, covering his mouth with his shirt.

"Yeah...I...yeah," Adrian replied. "This is shucked."

"Aaron," Vex called out to the Med-jack who was stumbling by. "How long have these people been dead?"

"I don't know...hours, maybe? Seems that way. I don't wanna look," the Glader replied before walking off.

"In here!" Lee shouted, throwing a door open.

Adrian was so disgusted, he broke into a run, and was the first into the room. The room was like the barracks he and the other Gladers had slept in, with bunk beds and a bathroom, but it was smaller, more compact.

"Right, there's not enough room for the lot of us," Lee said. "Let's...unhook the top bunks and put them on the ground, against the walls. That way there's enough room for everyone."

Kit, his remaining work force (which was reduced to himself and two other boys), and a couple other Gladers stepped forward and followed the order. When it was done, Adrian plopped down next to Thien and Percy, whose bandages had oddly changed overnight.

"So, I'll start off the Gathering," Desmond started; Adrian was relieved to see he had survived the fight. "This is shucked, beyond shucked."

"Ye, that klunk's been established," Adam replied. "We need to do stuff, ya know?"

Kit ran a hand through his hair before he spoke; His voice was quiet, sad."Something's gonna happen. Has to."

"It's only a matter of finding out how long," Desmond added. "We have no food, no medicine, and no weapons. Water, yeah, from the sinks and stuff. But we won't last long without food. A few days, at most."

"Hey," called out one of the Gladers standing behind Kit. "What's on your back? Something's written there, in sharpie, I think."

"What?" Kit asked, his voice replenishing to its former self. "The shuck do you mean?"

Lee stood up, walked over to Kit. He pulled down the Builder's shirt, and he squinted.

"Lee, what is it?" Adrian asked.

"It says 'Property of WICKED, Group C, Subject C-9, The Support."

"Wait," said the other Glader standing behind Kit. "Lee, there's something on yours too." He pulled down the boy's shirt. "Property of WICKED, Group C, Subject C-1, The Leader."

The room burst into chaos. Boys ran around, pulling down shirts, reading them aloud to the other Gladers.

"Vex, you're subject C-4. 'The Tick.'"

"Property of WICKED."

"Spence, Subject C-29."

"Group C!"

"Subject C-48."

"They all say WICKED on them."

"The shuck is this?"

"Subject C-15!"

Someone pulled down his shirt. "Adrian, you're subject C-10, 'The Hook,'" Glenn said.

Adrian looked at his friend. "Did you just say 'The Hook?' That doesn't sound very good."

"Maybe, you're like, the hook between the Gladers and the outside world. Shuck if I know. I'm 'The Aid.' Shuck is that supposed to mean?"

Adrian was about to reply when a loud alarm blared throughout the building. Adrian put his hands to his ears, looked around. The other Gladers were doing the same, but distinct looks of confusion were etched across their faces. Bernard was standing nearby, not even holding his ears, just gawking up at the ceiling.

"Bernard!" Adrian yelled over the alarm. "What's wrong?"

Bernard seemed to take forever to focus his gaze from the ceiling to Adrian. "The alarm!"

"Yeah, I know that! Why are you looking at it so funny!"

Bernard looked genuinely confused for a second. "Don't you...oh, right. It's the Greenie Alarm!"

Adrian felt equally confused. "What's the Greenie Alarm?!"

Before Bernard could answer, the alarm abruptly stopped just as fast as it had started. The air was silent but Adrian's ears were ringing. After what seemed like an eternity, Vex spoke.

"We, uh, we should check the other rooms."

"Yeah, good idea," Lee replied, moving past the other Gladers in the room to open the door. Following that was a shout of surprise.

"What is it?" Adrian called.

"The bodies! They're gone!"

The Gladers immediately surged forward, pressing tightly against each other in a cramped rush to get to the cafeteria. The shouts from the lucky ones that made it into the room first chilled Adrian as he pushed through the crowd. When he finally made it into the dining area, he too let out a yelp of surprise. The bodies were gone, no sign they were there in the first place, not even the horrible odor. Adrian was about to go ask Lee what was happening when even more shouts cascaded from their sleeping area. This time, Adrian was one of the first to get there, and shouted out once again.

The windows that had screaming Cranks at them just minutes before were bricked up.

"This klunk ain't possible," Lee muttered to himself before turning to Adrian. "It just can't be. Even if someone managed to get rid of the bodies, nobody can just brick up the windows."

"If the Creators can conjure up a Maze with monsters in it and make invisible portals, it shouldn't come to a surprise that they can make magic bricks," Thien commented, knocking on one of the bricked-up windows. "What do we do?"

"We wait," Adrian replied.

"What?" both of the other boys asked.

Adrian shrugged. "Something's gonna happen, we just need to give it time. Happened with the Maze, didn't it? Give it a few days at most."

"That's it?" Lee asked.

"Has to be," Adrian replied. "It has to be."

* * *

 **New chapter, yay! May seem rushed but it's all good. This chapter was around 1,800 words so I'll make next one longer, and it will encompass waiting, being greeted by WICKED, the traversal through the darkness, and a very small part of the Scorch. Thanks for the reviews, and I'll see you guys next chapter!**

 **-LI**


	13. Chapter 13: The Tunnel

Three days had passed since Adrian, the Griever Slayer, suggested they wait.

Three.

Shucking.

Days.

It wasn't like the other Gladers were following his orders - there wasn't klunk to do. The Gladers had grown weak from hunger, only getting up and wasting precious stamina to go to the bathroom and get a drink of water. Nobody showered, but Lee barely noticed the odor. Hunger was like a rabid beast, clawing around in your stomach, never wanting to do anything but destroy. Rare was the time when someone spoke, and it was in a whisper or a murmur. Lee had led these Gladers for two whole years and they had encountered disease, pain, and death, but there was always enough food for any shank that wanted some; nobody went hungry in the Glade. Some of the Gladers tried to murmur to anyone who would listen about the Glade. Pete, the short Runner who doubted shuckin' everything, talked the most about how running the Maze at night would beat this.

Lee couldn't blame him. Most of the Gladers could barely move, Lee included. As the Gladers, the people he cared about, grew weaker every minute, he began to seethe with anger. The Creators might have put him in a giant Maze, might've sent ugly bloodthirsty monsters after him, but starving out whatever friends he still had was unbelievable. The Gladers were broken, both in numbers and morale; Kit was depressed past anything he had ever seen, and most of the Gladers had lost their closest friends made during the Glade. Lee felt cheated, but he opted to sleep more and when he woke up, he would be more focused on the beast inside of him shrieking for food rather than the hatred he felt for the Creators; Not like he could choose, just hunger overwhelmed all of the other feelings in his system. It must have been the fourth day when Wes, the Runner that had gotten them out of this mess, stumbled into the dining area and started shouting. Lee tried to move, but three days of barely moving had made his joints stiff. Justin, always the helpful one, walked over and put Lee's arm over his shoulder, propped him up, held his waist with his other hand as a support. Slowly, but surely, they made it into the dining room.

Food.

There was a huge shuckin' pile of food in the dining room, where Gladers were already digging in, munching on granola bars, veggies, fruits. Justin helped Lee to the pile where both of them fell to the floor and started grabbing everything. He grabbed a bottle of water, took a long swig from it, took a giant bite out of a celery stick. When Lee had finally looked up from stuffing his face, he noticed some man.

Blocking the door to the other room, the one that was smaller, there was a clean-shaven young man, maybe twenty-four at most. He was sitting behind a desk, reading a book, his feet on the floor, book on the desk. He had black pants on, with a white lab coat and a grey shirt underneath. Lee got up, walked towards the guy. He was closing in when his face smashed against some invisible wall. The man looked up for a second. His eyes were bright-blue but tired.

"I'm authorized to begin the Scorch Trials very shortly," the man said. "You haven't much time. I suggest you eat and drink, and replenish your energy. You'll need it."

"But...wha...who," Lee stuttered out, dumbfounded by the invisible wall.

The man closed his book. "I know you're confused, but just sit down with your friends and relax. Just wait about ten minutes or so, and I'll tell you everything I'm authorized to tell you."

Exactly ten minutes later, thirty Gladers were sitting in a half-circle around the man and the invisible wall. He was still reading.

"This isn't gonna be good," Pete murmured beside him.

"Pete, ease up. You need to start being an optimist," Wes, who was sitting to his left, replied.

"Ye, well, if this is gonna be good, why is there a magic wall?" Pete retorted.

"Because what I'm going to tell you is far beyond good," the man said, closing his book and standing up. "This wall is here so you don't attack me in blind anger."

"Why is it bad?" someone asked.

The man reached into a drawer and pulled out a folder, placing it down on the desk. "You are all here due to an uncanny will to survive, to overcome all obstacles in order to keep pushing forward. You thirty are the only survivors of your Glade out of seventy-five. You may or may not have figured this out, but many of the things you've went through and are going to go through are solely for the purpose of observing and analyzing your responses."

"So you're experimenting on us?" Adrian asked.

The man shook his head slightly. "No, no. Not so much conducting an experiment as building a blueprint. These things you're going through are called Variables, and they stimulate the killzone, the brain. Once we've pieced together everything, we'll achieve the greatest breakthrough ever known to man. You should know that this isn't for fun. The Variables are incredibly thought-out and serve very important purposes.

"My name is Johnathan Armstrong and I represent a group known as WICKED. It may sound menacing, but WICKED serves only one purpose: to save the world from catastrophe. You here, in this room, right now, are quite possibly the most important people in the planet. You're vital to saving the human race. WICKED has unlimited money, unlimited resources, and the most advanced technology beyond even the most clever man's fantasies and dreams. You'll see this technology, and you've already seen it, no? The sun disappearing from the sky, a giant Maze that changes every night.

"The Maze was a part of the Trials. Variables thrown at you for _very specific_ purposes. Paul going delirious and insane. The Grievers breaking into the Glade and taking a boy once a night. The escape and murder of the boy Matthew."

At the mention of his dead friend's name, Kit started to rise from the floor before Ross and Cooper, the only living Builders, pulled him down.

Johnathan rubbed his neck. "I'm sorry to bring up bad memories. Moving on, The Maze Trials were just Phase One. We're still very, very short on what we need, so we have to up the ante. It's time for Phase Two."

Johnathan continued as the room lapsed into shocked silence. "You may think, or it may seem, that we're merely testing your ability to survive. On the surface, the Maze Trial could be mistakenly classified that way. But I assure you―this is not merely about survival and the will to live. That's only part of this experiment. The bigger picture is something you won't understand until the very end.

"Sun flares have ravaged many parts of the earth. Also, a disease unlike any before known to man has been ravaging the earth's people―a disease called the Flare. For the first time, the governments of all nations―the surviving ones―are working together. They've combined forces to create WICKED―a group meant to fight the new problems of this world. You are a big part of that fight. And you'll have every incentive to work with us, because, sad to say, each one of you has already caught the virus."

Johnathan quickly continued to cut off the murmurs and shouts that started. "Don't worry! It takes quite awhile for the symptoms to set in. You've seen just a dozen Cranks, and that was behind the safety of closed bars. I'm speaking from personal experience when I say that you don't want to see a Crank up close and in person, with nothing to protect you." As if on instinct Johnathan rubbed his arm, and a brief look of discomfort flashed across his face. "Once you make it through this, your reward will be the cure. You may be the most important people alive, but the cure is the most important thing on this planet.

"Phase Two. The Scorch Trials. It officially begins tomorrow morning at six o'clock. You'll enter this room, and in the wall behind me you will find a Flat Trans. To your eyes the Flat Trans will appear as a shimmering wall of gray. Each of you must step through it by five minutes after the hour. So again, it opens at six o'clock and closes five minutes after that. Do you understand?"

After what seemed like forever, a few of the boys started to nod and murmur yeahs and yeses.

"Good," Johnathan said. "Also, just in case: When the option to fight in the Maze or stay in the Glade was presented, every single boy remaining in the Glade volunteered to go. I haven't a doubt that all thirty of you will go through the Flat Trans, but if you stay behind there will be a, uh, an unfortunate and swift end to you.

At that point, the Scorch Trials will have begun. The rules are very simple. Find your way to open air, then head due north for one hundred miles. Make it to the safe haven within two weeks' time and you'll have completed Phase Two. At that point, and only at that point, you'll be cured of the Flare. That's exactly two weeks―starting the second you step through the Trans." He paused.

"Good luck to all of you, and I'll see you all in two weeks."

The room exploded into questions as the whole wall fogged up, like someone had a shower running. And then, just like that, the fog cleared, and Johnathan nor his desk were nowhere to be seen.

 **oOo**

Adrian woke up at quarter past five. Lee said the wake-up was 5:30, but Adrian wanted to stay up rather than get a little more sleep. The light snores of Gladers filled the air. He took in everything that had happened to him and the others. His mind kept thinking about Rowan. He, and the other Gladers, still didn't want to accept that Rowan had died in the Maze. All of the Bricknicks were dead, according to Kit, who had mumbled it when they were all starving a few days ago.

"Hey," Bernard said to Adrian in the darkness of the room, stirring Adrian out of his thoughts.

"Hey," Adrian replied, smiling a little. He barely knew anything about Bernard, didn't even know what he did before the escape, but he felt like a close friend already.

"You ready for this klunk?"

"Heh, no. I'm gonna drop my water, I guarantee it."

A light chuckle from the Glader. "Yea, I probably will too."

A brief pause. "Hey, Bernard, what'd you do? Before the escape from the Maze, I mean."

Bernard yawned before replying. "Feels like years ago, don't it? I used to be a Runner, if you can believe it. Filled in Felix's place after he, well, passed on." There was a pause that seemed like eternity before Bernard added, "I miss the Runners. The ones that died. I miss everyone. Especially Evan, Rowan, and Jordan. They were good guys."

Adrian remembered Rowan, fighting as blood gushed out of a shoulder wound, remembered Evan falling to the Maze floor after taking a Griever knife to the throat, remembered the terror plastered on Jordan's face as he fell off the Cliff.

"Yeah. I do, too."

Not long after that, the alarms on the wristwatches carried by every Glader started going off, and the moans and half-asleep grumbles of drowsy Gladers filled the air. They got the pillowcases and bedsheets filled with food and water and went out into the dining area, where Johnathan had appeared the day before. They sat against the wall, silence filling the air as the Gladers just _waited_. It felt like that last meal back in the Glade, with dread and anticipation hanging over the boys like a storm cloud.

"It's six o' clock!" someone shouted.

As if on cue, the whole wall fogged up again. A split second later, it was gone, and in its place, a large, shimmering, murky-gray wall. Lee walked up to it, shifted the weight of the bag on his shoulders.

Lee then turned to the others. "See you on the other side," he grinned, and then jumped in, disappearing.

Thien herded the rest to the Flat-Trans as the Gladers exchanged brief glimpses of fear with each other. One by one, each Glader hesitated a moment before jumping into the Flat-Trans. After three minutes, only Callum, Adrian, and Thien were in the room.

Callum turned to look at the two. "Great works are performed not by strength, but by perseverance," he said, before laughing nervously. "Don't know who said it."

After Callum jumped in, disappearing into the shadowy gray wall, Adrian took a deep breath and jumped in before he could reconsider.

Adrian was plunged into pitch-black darkness. He shouted out in surprise and terror as he landed on something hard, maybe stone or cement. He took a few steps forward, bumped into someone. Behind him, a familiar shout, and then a grunt.

"Griever Slayer, Thien, that you?" Lee called out in the darkness.

"Yeah!" both of them replied; Adrian was beyond relieved to hear his voice.

"Good," Lee replied. "I can't see jack in here, so I'm gonna call us off, number by number. I'll go first; One!"

"Two!" someone shouted.

"Three!"

When all thirty Gladers were accounted for, Lee continued.

"Good, all thirty of you are here. Well, I don't think there were any flashlights. I can't see anything. This corridor seems to be pretty big, maybe twenty feet wide? Regardless, I guess we're supposed to walk. Stay close to each other. We'll make it through this. Alright, let's move out!"

Adrian could hear Lee turn on his heels and start to walk. The shuffling of other Gladers walking filled the air. Adrian moved his way through the line (At least he thought he did) before he bumped into someone.

"Watch it, shank," Percy warned in the darkness.

"Percy? It's me," Adrian replied.

"I don't give a klunk who- oh, Adrian? Hey, man."

Adrian smiled. "Hey."

"What do you think's at the end of this tunnel, anyways?" Percy asked.

"Well, that Johnathan guy said that we'd find open air, so I guess there's a door or a hatch or some klunk," Adrian responded.

"Probably," Percy replied.

After that, they stopped talking. Adrian focused on moving forward, but it was difficult. His eyes never adjusted to the darkness, leaving him blind. The air was cool, maybe coming through a vent, but it smelled like dust and leather. The only thing that kept him tethered to reality was his feet, walking along the cement floor. On and on they went. Nobody spoke. After what seemed like an hour or two of walking, something sharp cut through the air. Adrian heard the other Gladers stop walking, start murmuring.

"Everyone hold up," Lee ordered, as if they needed to be told. "You guys heard that?"

A few of the Gladers who weren't asking questions up the yin yang murmured yesses. Whatever Adrian and the others heard was quick. It was a whisper, he knew that much, but what it said was to be discovered.

"All of you shanks slim it!" Thien shouted. "We need to hear what he said."

The Gladers shut up. Adrian strained his ears, squeezed his eyes shut as if that would do anything. Waiting.

"One-chance deal. Go back now, you won't be grabbed," a raspy voice hissed through the air. It was loud, certainly didn't come from any of the Gladers.

Before anyone could say anything, Adrian's world flashed with light. He screamed, falling to his knees, blinded by the light. He heard others shout out in alarm, but his blood ran cold as the screams turned to horror. He looked up, squinting, to see giant metal claws, snapping about, grabbing at the Gladers. In front of him, there was the boy who talked to him at dinner. Blood ran down his face as he staggered to his feet. He looked at Adrian, and a look of terror flashed across his face before one of the metal claws grabbed onto him, encasing his whole upper body. The Glader let out muffled shrieks, slammed at the claw with his fists, but to no avail. The claw hesitated before a long, metal spike flew through the boy's abdomen. The Glader went limp, and the claw released, dropping him on the ground. Realizing that this was happening to other boys, Adrian grabbed his stuff and started to sprint.

In front of him, Peter, the skeptical Runner, sprinted past him only to get grabbed by the legs. Adrian paused, turned to look behind him.

It was chaos.

About four boys lay on the ground, dead, and more were clutched in those...metal claws. Adam, the fearless Keeper of the Slicers, got to his feet, took a few steps, and then was flung to the ground as a goop of liquid silver flew onto his face. Adrian watched in paralyzed fear as Adam and another boy thrashed around as the silver started to slide down their faces. A Glader who cracked a joke to Adrian on his first day was sliced in two by a large blade that came out of the wall. Other Gladers watched in shock while others gathered their things and tried to make a run for it. Dumbo and Thien were carrying a boy who was badly bruised.

"Adrian! _Adrian_!" Lee screamed, shaking Adrian out of his terrified trance.

"W-What?!" Adrian screamed back.

"We've gotta move!" Lee shouted, before turning to the other disoriented Gladers. " _RUN_!"

Adrian took a few steps forward before his whole world was plunged into darkness again. People were shouting, someone was crying. Maybe it was him. He didn't know. Then there was Lee, shrieking for order. That got him out of it for good. The other Gladers managed to quiet down enough.

"What in shuck just happened?!" someone, maybe Jakob, asked.

"I...I don't know," Lee replied. "There...were...a lot of us. Yeah, that's it. They wanted to kill off a few of us, because thirty is too powerful a number. We, uh, we...we need to count off. I'll start. One. Lee."

"Two," someone beside Adrian mumbled. "Callum."

The last number called out was twenty-one.

Nine boys were just brutally murdered by WICKED.

* * *

 **Hey! Thanks for reading! I know I promised more but don't worry, next chapter will be worth the wait! So in this chapter, it was pretty average business for the most part. There was the hunger jazz, and then Johnathan's speech (I tried to make it seem like Johnathan didn't want to give the boys a speech; If you compare the Scorch Trials speech and this one, you'll see some minor differences that make this one a bit more friendly), but after the tunnel, that light switching on and the massacre really showed that real bad stuff was planned for Group C. I hope you didn't dislike how I dropped off nine Gladers, but that would be WICKED's way of evening the playing field, making it harder for Group C. See you all next chapter!**

 **-LI**


	14. Chapter 14: Glass Half-Full

"Ow! Shuckin' hell!" Lee growled in the darkness.

"You alright?" Thien asked. "What's wrong?"

"Fine. I'm fine," Lee replied. "I, uh, I think I found a way out."

Adrian's nerves flooded with relief. Ever since those Gladers had been massacred, every step Adrian took caused him to flinch, a little more with each foot put in front of each other. He had strained his ears to pick up any whispering, any sign that those awful lights might flicker on, that those claws will kill more innocent Gladers.

"Alright, shanks, listen up," Lee ordered. "There's some sorta...staircase or somethin'. Watch your step."

The shifting of bags, footsteps, and someone clearing their throat told Adrian that the Gladers were moving. Directly in front of him, someone tripped and grunted, the first victim of the stairs. Adrian planted his foot on the first step, and then kept moving up. A Glader's arm brushed his, and someone bumped into him but didn't say anything; Adrian couldn't help but wonder how narrow the staircase was. After a few more steps, there was a loud thud, and another string of obscenities.

"What's happened?" Adrian called out.

There was a slight groan before Lee replied. "We hit the roof, is what happened. Hold on, I think I found a lock. Let me just-"

There was a click, and Adrian's vision was plunged into pure-white fire. He shouted again, covering his eyes and looking away. There was another click, and the darkness returned.

"I think we found our way out, but it's on the shuckin' sun!" Lee exclaimed.

"Or Mexico!" someone shouted from behind him.

"Right...or Mexico," Lee sighed. "Here, I snagged a T-shirt from one of the dressers back in those barracks. I'll wedge it in there, and everyone else shut your eyes nice and tight so they don't turn into marshmallows."

Adrian did as he was told, and squeezed his eyes tighter than he had ever squeezed them before. The light returned, causing Adrian to step back, almost falling down the staircase. After two minutes or so, however, the light became tolerable, and Adrian let his hand fall to his side. He turned behind him, and his jaw dropped.

He had forgotten with the heat and the light that nine Gladers were missing. It was overwhelming. Pete and Adam were nowhere to be seen, but Adrian knew that, had seen them die. A few of his friends, like Glenn and Dumbo, were there, but many of the familiar faces he had seen in the past four days were nowhere to be seen. The remaining Gladers looked beaten-down, exhausted. As he scanned the remaining faces, he felt stunned to discover that Snafu wasn't among them.

Snafu.

One of the most fearless, cockiest, carefree boys to ever live in the Glade.

Gone, in the blink of an eye.

Adrian had a hard time believing he was dead, much like Rowan. The other Gladers' mouths were agape, most staring in shock. Jakob and a few of the other surviving Track-Hoes realized Snafu and another Track-Hoe named Jim (whom Adrian had never spoken to) weren't there, were dead. Spencer's face paled at the realization that his Keeper was dead. Callum and Vex were staring at the floor.

Adrian shook his head quickly, focused on the task of hand: Getting out. Once they made it to the safe haven, they could mourn all they wanted.

"Okay...Okay," Lee murmured, clearly shocked at the physical representation of the loss of life. "Those claws could come out of the wall at any time now and there was that crap that killed Adam and Bruno, that silver goop or whatever the shuck it was. I ain't too keen on hanging out down here, so we can either get sunburned or get killed." By this point, Lee seemed to have regained some of his confidence. "Alright, so here's what we're gonna do: It's hot as hell out there, so we'll stuff our food into half of the packs and then use the bedsheets for cover so we don't sizzle up like Thien's bacon out there. We'll travel in groups of two. Come night, we'll eat and try to cover as much distance as possible. Everyone hear that loud and clear?"

Some of the Gladers replied with yeahs and yesses but most just solemnly nodded their heads.

"What? Don't think we'll make it? Just watch, shanks. You'll see," Lee said, and then opened the hatch further, threw a bedsheet over himself and Thien, and then climbed out. Two more Gladers that Adrian didn't know followed suit, and then came Vex and Callum. Adrian stepped forward, as did Spencer. The taller boy gave a solemn nod to Adrian, which Adrian returned. Adrian climbed the last few steps and climbed into the sunlight.

He took a deep breath, and then doubled over coughing as dust flew into his throat. After hacking up nothing, he gave up, and rose to his feet. There were Lee, Thien, Vex, Callum, and the two Gladers, packs over their heads, squinting into the distance. Adrian soon followed their gaze.

It was just...a wasteland.

Barren, dry rocks and sand devoid of any life stretched on for miles. No trees, no shrubs, nothing. Wind whipped at Adrian's white T-shirt, throwing more dust at him than cooling him. In the distance, there were some mountains and what looked like a town, although they were too far away to Behind him, he heard Spencer grunt as he climbed out of the hatch and into the light.

"Shuck..." Spencer coughed. "It's hot."

"You said it," Lee agreed, turning to face the others. "We should probably head towards that town, try to resupply. My guess is that this place has some sort of food storage, maybe a few warehouses. After that, we'll all move forward to the safe haven."

"Assuming we have enough food to make it," one of the boys Adrian didn't know added. "Water, too. Ain't lookin' like it rains much in these parts."

"This place is in the desert. I don't all that much about civilization before, well, _this_ , but I'd probably think that there would be a pretty big collection of food and water, just in case. War, drought, nasty dust storms, and apocalypse, that stuff," Spencer said. "If we make it to this town or city, provided that there aren't those...Cranks or whatever you wanna call 'em, we should be set at least until we reach the safe haven."

"He's got a point," Callum agreed. "We get there, and a bunch of Cranks aren't chewing our faces off, it's a one-way ticket to the cure."

The other boy that Adrian didn't know shook his head. "Spence, Cal', I'd love to agree with you, but this won't work."

"And why won't that work, Eric?" Vex asked, although he seemed genuinely interested in what the other Glader, Eric, had to say.

"Think about this," Eric started. "I'm an optimist, a glass half-full kind of shank. But we just fought a battle against monsters, barely escaping with our lives. We wake up, almost starve to death, have almost ten of us slaughtered by claws and metal goop, and then we're in a desert wasteland. I don't know all that much about WICKED, or the Creators, or whatever you wanna call 'em, but I do know that things aren't gonna be easy."

"That's a good point," said Percy, who had just climbed into the desert with Benji. "But who cares? You think a bunch of half-starved yahoos are gonna get in the way of us? We've just fought dozens of monsters, killing machines. I think we can handle 'em."

"Look, shanks, I'd love to debate this all day, but it's hot as shuck right now and we need to cover ground," Lee interrupted. Adrian snuck a quick glance behind him to see that the other Gladers had climbed out of that staircase and into the wasteland. Most of them toted blank faces or puzzled looks as they took in their new surroundings.

"He's right, let's get a move on," Thien added, wiping some sweat from his brow.

Adrian didn't mind falling into line, covering his head with the bedsheet. Spencer walked alongside him, offering to take the heavy sheets. Lee insisted that they walk, since running would just deplete their water, which is the most precious thing available at the moment.

"So," Adrian said after a few hours of walking in complete silence. "You're a Slicer."

Spencer nodded. "Sure am. I didn't much like the other jobs. Would've liked being a Cook, but Bruno is—was—a pain in the shuck butt. Adam and a couple other of the Slicers were nice enough, and I didn't get to murder the animals as much as the others. Sloppers have more important things to do than feed animals and make sure they're healthy, so I guess you could call me a veterinarian. I was one of the originals, ya know."

"Were you now?" Adrian said, his lips tugging into a small smile.

"You bet your butt I was," Spencer beamed. "Woke up, all dazed and confused, not knowing where the shuck I was, surrounded by fifty shanks just in the same position as me. Then Lee comes up, gives a little speech, and then the rest is history."

Adrian couldn't help but smile a bit wider. "That's it, then? Sounds awful simple."

Spencer laughed a little. "Maybe I left out some stuff." He paused. "Man, I miss Adam. Bronson. The others."

"I do, too," Adrian replied. "But hey, be like Eric." He looked ahead to see the blonde boy, cracking some stupid joke; At least it seemed that way, as evidenced by the way the boy next to him was rubbing his temples and how Eric was giggling like a maniac to himself. "Glass half-full kinda guy, right?"

Spencer smiled a bit. "Yeah. Glass half-full."

 **oOo**

Adrian couldn't have slept long, maybe six hours. It wasn't long before the searing heat became intolerable, before he could ignore it. The other Gladers took inventory and ate a hasty breakfast, murmuring to each other as they ate. And then they were off.

Walking.

So far, Adrian hated the desert. It was hot, humid, and hopeless. He wondered to himself if all deserts were this barren and lifeless or if there were more towns or more animals or more anything. Food and water was getting more scarce, and before long he found he was walking alone, as more and more of the sheets were used for cover from the sun. Adrian quickly came to learn that Jakob, whom he hadn't talked to since before the escape from the Maze, was one of those survival nuts, always checking the supplies he had and ranting to the others (in-between more conspiracy theories about Cranks and WICKED) about how they need to preserve their precious water; Despite how much he had talked throughout their trek, nobody told him to shut it.

Nobody admitted it, but Adrian knew they needed hope. In some odd, confusing way, Jakob's conspiracy theories and survival rants were a sign of their old lives, and a sign that things would get better, that they'd escape with their old selves. Again, nobody wanted to admit it, but Adrian knew that himself and the other boys were growing hopeless. Adrian couldn't blame them, he only felt a fraction of how hopeless and emotionally torn the other Gladers were. Even Eric had stopped cracking jokes overnight, instead just staring ahead at the town or city or whatever it was.

By the end of the day, everyone was too exhausted to move further into the night, so Lee, whose clothes were drenched in sweat and covered in dirt, told everyone to set camp for the night. Adrian found a spot next to Dumbo and another Glader named Harry, and he started to eat whatever food he still had; A protein bar, some celery, and an apple.

"Man, this sucks," grumbled Dumbo. "I'm almost out of sunflower seeds."

"Sunflower seeds?" Adrian asked. "You have shuckin' sunflower seeds?"

"Yeah," Dumbo replied. "Just a small bag, not much else."

"Where'd you even get 'em?" Adrian asked.

"Rowan," Dumbo replied. "He always liked them, I don't know why. He gave me a few once, and the slinthead got me hooked on them. Before the escape, he gave me his last bag. Held onto it."

"It's funny," Adrian sighed. "You said it sucks because you're out of sunflower seeds. Nothing else sucks, though?"

The other boy slapped at a mosquito. "Everything sucks, but I mean, having some sunflower seeds sure helps."

"Yeah, I guess so," Adrian replied before yawning. He let his head hit the sheet, reminding him of his second day of the Glade, vowing to never eat pork. Now, if Adrian saw a pig, he'd eat that ugly thing without hesitation. And impossibly, he managed to sleep.

 **oOo**

 _Adrian's in the Glade again._

 _Well, he's not in the Glade, but he's dreaming. Like a...vision._

 _It's late in the Glade, maybe four or five. He can't move but he knows that he's outside the North Door._

 _"It's getting late," someone worriedly says. It's just now when he sees Lee. He's younger, but he's still Lee. There's also Vex. Benji. Glenn, hair much shorter than it is now. Glenn isn't wearing his medical satchel or the Med-jack patch, but rather a beige T-shirt, black gloves, and jeans. He's also holding a metal spear. Benji has those same black gloves on. There's two other boys that Adrian doesn't know. One has short, black hair and looks a bit pale. Concern is etched across his face. The other has Runner gear and sports shaggy blonde hair._

 _"I don't want to do this anymore than you do," Lee said. "It's getting late though."_

 _"That's klunk!" the boy with shaggy hair replied. "We need to go get Franklin!"_

 _Lee ran a hand through his hair. Vex looks concerned as well. "Franklin's tough. He'll make it through."_

 _"Don't say that," Vex snapped. "You know the Grievers have probably stung the shank again. We need to go."_

 _"Yeah, what if the doors close?" Lee asked. "What if the doors close while you're out there and the both of you die?"_

 _"We'll go," the pale boy quickly replied. "Anything to help."_

 _Lee nodded. "Thanks, James. You too, Benji and Glenn." Lee took a deep breath. "Okay. You can go. But make it snappy. I shouldn't even be letting you do this."_

 _Adrian remembers now. This is...like a flashback dream of what Glenn told him in his first day in the Glade. He's helpless as Vex and the others ready their backpacks and weapons and run into the Maze for Franklin._

 _He watches as they turn a corner and disappear._

 **oOo**

Adrian woke to roaring winds and ear-shattering thunder. He went to go remove the sheets but shouted out as they were ripped off, flying into the sky.

"Shuck it," he muttered, getting to his feet.

Around him, the Gladers shouted to each other over the wind or gawked up at the sky. The sky had turned gray. Thunderstorm, no doubt. _But why would it rain in a desert_?

"Hey! Griever Slayer!" Thien screamed at Adrian over the wind; The weather had reduced him to squinting so hard he couldn't tell if his eyes were closed or not.

"Yeah!"Adrian yelled back. "Do you believe this?!"

Thien briefly glanced at the sky. "Maybe it's the climate or the sun flares! I don't know! We'll move out in around—"

Thien was interrupted as the ground behind him exploded, blinding Adrian and throwing him to the ground. Over the roaring wind and distant thunder, he heard an agonizing shriek. He got to his knees, and rubbed his eyes.

It was Harry.

The Glader was writhing like a stuck pig as he lay inside a small crater. Almost his whole left leg and half of his right leg had been obliterated from the explosion. The lightning strike. Harry screamed, waving his bloodied and charred hands around, mangled pleas for help over screams of agony. Next to him, Dumbo looked away, bent over, and retched, letting loose everything in his stomach. Adrian gave his friend a pat on the back before looking up, and there was Lee. Pointing at Harry, shaking his head. There was nothing they could do for him, not even grant him a quick death. Nobody looked at Harry. Nobody could bring themselves to.

There was no way Lee could be heard, but he was frantically waving his arms, pointing at a decaying building maybe twenty minutes away. It looked like he was going to elaborate but another lightning bolt struck the ground maybe fifty feet away. Lee pointed at the building, and mouthed, 'RUN!'

Adrian didn't need to be told twice.

He took off sprinting, others in front of him and others behind him. Before long, the air had thickened into a dusty fog, and before long he could only see a few feet in front of him. Lightning struck again, and from the left he thought he could hear a faint scream. The lightning and thunder deafened Adrian, and before long there just a ringing in his ears. He must have been running for ten, maybe fifteen minutes when the ground around the Glader in front of him exploded, sending the boy to the ground. Adrian watched as the boy faceplanted the ground, didn't move. He paused, as dust and wind ripped at his clothes and the thunder deafened him.

 _United we stand, divided we fall_ , Adrian thought, and then reached out to roll the boy on his side. He couldn't leave another person behind, even if he didn't know him. He grabbed the boy's shoulder, and pushed him on his back.

Percy.

Somewhere, somehow, his bandages had fallen off, revealing his whole face. Regardless, his whole face was bloody and dirty, and his eyes were closed. Adrian felt around his neck for a pulse. Found it, it was strong. He was alive. He grabbed his arms, picked up up, and started to carry him firefighter style when lightning struck.

Or at least that's what Adrian thought.

He had only taken a few steps when he was sent flying through the air, Percy slipping from his grasp. He landed hard, with his leg taking most of the impact. He groaned, regretting it immediately as dust filled his lungs. He coughed, straining his lungs even more.

And then there was Kit, screaming something at him over the storm. The other boy coughed, and then grabbed Adrian, half-dragging half-carrying him. Kit's face was showered with dirt and sand as another lightning bolt rocked the ground, but he never dropped Adrian. When he could, Adrian looked up, saw Justin and Thien running towards him, Justin grabbing Adrian's other half. Together, the four ran towards some tall building that looked like it would collapse at any second. It wasn't the building Lee told them to run for. They carried him in while Thien slammed the door shut, even though there were holes in the wall. Justin let go, collapsing on the floor, heaving in huge breaths while Thien did the same. Kit, now staggering, set Adrian against the wall and then sat up against him.

Adrian could only remember a numbing sadness.

* * *

 **New chapter yeah! Alright, so, this chapter transitions Group C in the Scorch and they get as far as the storm. I won't tell if the others survived so you'll just have to wait till next chapter to see how many of the other Group C subjects survived. I also brought in the dream sequence where Felix is trying to go into the Maze for Franklin. Huh. I just realized now that I pair characters together with name. Bruno and Bronson were taken and Felix and Franklin were killed by Grievers. Well, actually, I never specified if Franklin died because he got Stung and then recovered and then went into the Maze and got lost and then got Stung again. I'll just say it now that yes, Franklin (the like least important character ever) eventually was stuck out in the Maze and died. I like to pay attention to consistency and the little things when it comes to my story. No loose ends unless I want it that way.**

 **I also want to run something by you guys: How would you feel about a story through the eyes of another Group A Glader? It's just the drawing board right now, nothing real, but depending on how you react I would write it. Group C won't be in this story since they're not canon, and I'll probably make him a Med-jack or a Cook. I've always wondered what the story was like through the eyes of the other Gladers, most of which died without a word of dialogue. How long he survives it yet to be seen, but I wondered what you thought.  
**

 **ALSO. I wanted to recommend one of you guys to a story I've been reading, called "Isaac Newton's Girl." It's a pretty long and in-depth fanfiction that I think you'll all enjoy. It hasn't been updated but that is fine since the author's life has been hectic lately. See you all next chapter!**

 **-LI**


	15. Chapter 15: What is Left

_It was sunny in the Glade._

 _Well, it always was, but even...sunnier._

 _A light breeze blew through the air, cooling Lee's face as he walked to to the Homestead. He had already checked around the Glade, he just had to see what the Cooks and Med-jacks were doing. The screen door creaked open as he pushed it, an annoyance that Kit always said he'd do but never got around to actually fixing the shuck thing._

 _"Hey, Lee," Thien greeted as he came through the door._

 _"Hey," Lee replied. "Everyone alright in here?"_

 _Thien snorted. "Yea, everyone except for Dumbo. Burned his left hand this time. He's alright though, it's just decommissioned him for, like, a day or two."_

 _Lee smiled; Dumbo had burnt himself at least ten times since they all woke in the Glade. Three times on both hands (four on his left now), one on each leg, and even one on his back._

 _"Good that," Lee said, and then walked on through the Homestead. A few Gladers moved past him, smiling and giving him a pat on the back. He turned a corner and then pushed open a door to the infirmary._

 _Aaron looked up. "Hi, Lee. What can I get you?"_

 _Lee nodded to Franklin. "How is he?"_

 _Aaron turned in his chair, set the notepad and pen in his lap. "He's...unpredictable. We've been working on it, but he's stable for now. It could change, though, that Griever roughed him up real bad. A broken arm, a few broken ribs, and a whole lot of cuts. Nothing we couldn't do. No signs of the Changing. He's in good hands, and we'll do everything we can to bring him back."_

 _Lee nodded. "Good. Thanks, Aaron."_

 _Aaron smiled faintly. "Hey, it's what I'm here for."  
_

 **oOo**

The rain came down in torrents, slamming down on the house. Lee didn't notice, though. All he had done was sit there, staring in shock at how few people they had.

Twelve.

He counted them all. All their names.

Himself, Cooper, Bernard, Dumbo, Ross, Callum, Spencer, Mikey, Percy, Benji, Vex, and Glenn.

No Thien.

No Justin.

No Adrian.

No Kit.

No Desmond.

Nine, just...gone again.

After the escape, there were thirty Gladers. Twenty-nine other boys he was supposed to lead, to keep safe. Sixty a few weeks ago.

No there's only twelve, including himself.

So he sat there. Didn't cry. Didn't get angry. Didn't feel. He just sat there, let it all sink in.

Even if there were twelve of them, some were badly hurt. Percy's face was barely recognizable, covered in cuts, sores, dirt, and sand. Glenn, the only surviving Med-jack, got up and limped across the room, using whatever medical supplies he had to fix them. Used a roll of bandages to fully cover Percy's face after cleaning it with his hands and some rainwater. Percy's face, fully bandaged, only his eyes and part of his nose the only thing visible. Callum lay on the ground, stretched out, a nasty gash on his chin, passed out. Glenn used what was left of the bandages and some sewing kit he had found on the ground to sew the wound and bandage it.

"Man," coughed Dumbo, running a hand through his hair, "This sucks."

"You said it," Benji replied; his voice was raspy. "Water, sure, but who knows how long it'll rain. No food. No medical supplies. Two-thirds of our Med-jacks killed by the storm. We're screwed."

After letting that sink in, Spencer shifted from his spot on the floor to the wall. "No, we're not. You know what they say, when there's a will, there's a way. We just gotta...stay positive. Remember what Eric said. Glass half-full."

"Eric's dead," Benji snapped. "Thien's dead. So's Justin. The Griever Slayer, too. Look at us. We're a band of misfits. Half of us are too wounded to do anything physically straining. Look at Callum. He's out cold. Percy's over there lookin' like he burned his face off. We're done. Dead."

"Slim it!" Lee barked, snapping out of his daze. "Benji, what has gotten into you?"

"Almost everyone I cared about died!" Benji shouted back.

Lee was about to shout back, but realized a fight wasn't what they needed right now. "Look, we need to work together or we'll die. I'm going to the safe haven, with or without you, Benji. Does anyone wanna come with me, wanna live? If so, raise your hand."

After a moment, Vex rose his hand. Then Mikey. Before long, all the Gladers in the room (minus Callum, who was still unconscious) had raised their hands.

"Good," Lee said. "Good. We can't give up, not now. Once this rain stops, whenever it stops, we should have enough water to make it further into the city. I'm still keen on the food warehouses or some sort of food storage. WICKED would only make things harder, not impossible, for us to survive." He looked at Glenn, nodded at Callum. "How fit do you think he is to move?"

Glenn rubbed his eyes. "That chin wound isn't so much of a problem, but I found some real nasty burn wounds around the back part of his right shoulder, probably lightning. The wounds aren't life-threatening, but they're bad. If he doesn't wake up, someone's gonna have to carry him."

Lee nodded. "Any takers?"

"I'll carry him," Ross offered.

"You sure?" Lee asked. "You'll have to carry him through the city."

"I'll sub in with him," Cooper quickly countered. "Plus, we've lifted heavier than him."

"Thank you both," Lee replied.

And so they waited for the rain to stop coming down. Seconds turned into minutes, and minutes turned into hours. With each passing minute, Lee felt fatigue set in even more. After a full three hours of sitting there, Lee finally faded into the dark abyss of sleep, the one place where he could escape the horrors of this new world.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

It wasn't raining when Lee finally woke up.

"Well, well, looks like Sleeping Beauty has finally awoken," Vex grinned.

Lee rubbed his eyes. "How long since the storm stopped?"

"About an hour."

"An hour? How much water do we have?"

"Almost all our packs are full with water. We need food and meds, along with weapons."

"Weapons?" Lee asked. "There's other survivors in this city?"

"Well, we haven't seen them, _per se_ ," Mikey interjected. "We heard a bunch of screaming about forty minutes ago. Creepy stuff."

"Man, this is gonna be a challenge," Lee muttered to nobody in particular. He looked up. "We have to be low-key. Bad enough that there are survivors in this city, but after what we've been through, I'm willing to bet that this place is full of Cranks."

"Aw, come on," Percy protested through his bandages. "We can fight a few yahoos that are probably all drugged and klunk?"

"No," Lee replied, baffled at how carefree Percy could be. "They're probably hardened survivors. The storm, combined with the possible heat storms and extreme temperatures would definitely toughen up someone."

"Alright, Mr. Weatherman," Percy snorted. "What do you propose we do?"

"We send a scout to check out the surrounding buildings and then pick the one with the most apparent supplies," Lee said, already formulating the rest of the plan in his head. "We move quickly and quietly, no screwing around. We take a rest break, take inventory, and then rinse and repeat through the city. We have two Runners with us, Vex and Bernard. Who wants to go scouting?"

"Or both of us could go out at the same time," Vex proposed. "Bernard goes one way, I go the other. We come back, see what section has more to offer."

Lee nodded his head. "That works, too. Alright, let's do this." Lee rose to his feet, and nodded for Bernard and Vex to follow. He walked towards the opposite wall, which had a gaping hole in it. He peered out.

This place was in ruins.

To the right, a giant pileup of broken cars. In front of them, this huge skyscraper that looked like it was barely standing, with some military truck smashed in the doorway and the rotors of a helicopter sticking out of the place. To their right, a long, narrow street with what looked like shops on either end. Lee turned to the two Runners.

"You see this?" he asked.

"Yeah," Vex replied. "Hard stuff. But then again, everything is hard. I'll head to the right, check out those stores. I hope there's some sorta hunting store, hook us up with some survival gear. Bernard, where are you going?"

"I'll check out the cars if I can," Bernard responded. "The military one first, then the pileup. With any luck, some canned food and water, a couple backpacks. This place was hit by sun flares, right? Maybe some people packed up their gear and were trying to get out of this dump when they hit."

"Alright, good, good. If you need help, yell, and we'll come running. Off you shanks go," Lee said, and then moved aside.

Bernard went first, climbing out of the hole and into the sunlight, coughing a little as he went. Then Vex. The two Runners stood next to each other for a moment, basking in the sun and the city, before glancing at each other, giving a short nod, and start running.

 **oOo**

Adrian and the others had been lying on the floor for what felt like days when someone finally spoke.

"Just us?" Kit asked, his voice hoarse, presumably from all the screaming in the storm.

"No, it can't be," Thien replied, struggling to his feet. "Can't be. There were twenty-one of us, twenty if you don't include Harry."

"I _do_ ," Kit growled. "He was still one of us."

"Yeah, yeah, sorry. Regardless, there's no way all of those other seventeen shanks could've kicked the bucket."

"What if they did, though?" Kit asked. "You saw what the storm did to Harry. Could've happened to the rest."

"Slim it!" Justin barked, whose voice was equally hoarse. "Just...slim it."

The quiet returned for a few minutes until Thien spoke again.

"We need to move."

"Not so sure I can go as fast as I used to," Adrian grunted, massaging his wounded leg. "I fell pretty bad."

"Probably sprained your ankle or pulled something," Justin glumly replied. "I'd tell you to rest up on it, but...not an option nowadays." Justin broke into a coughing fit. "We need food...medicine for all of us. "

"What about the others?" Thien protested. "We need to look for them. Lee, Vex, Dumbo, the others."

"Look," Adrian said, groaning as he stood up. "If the others made it through, which I highly believe they did, they shouldn't have a problem getting to the safe haven. Shuck, if anyone here's having a problem, it's us."

Thien huffed out a sigh of relief. "Yeah...yeah, you're right, you're right. We've just got to get there. Are we set on water?"

"Maybe two days of water between us," Justin replied, getting up with Kit. "We've gotta find supplies."

"Alright," Thien said, bending down to pick up a rusted tire iron. "I'll take point. Justin, you follow next, then Adrian. Kit, bring up the rear." Then, before anyone could respond, Thien gripped the handle of the nearly-destroyed door and threw it open. Thien ran through.

"Clear!" he hissed.

Justin went through next, and Adrian followed.

The door led to a wide alleyway. A corpse, bones the only thing remaining from months, if not years of exposure to the elements and scavengers, lay nearby, wearing a tattered jacket and a worn backpack. Justin knelt down, trying to slide the pack off of the skeleton, while Thien looked at something on the wall. Adrian followed his gaze, and saw what he was looking at. On the wall, it read:

 _THOMAS, YOU'RE THE REAL LEADER_

"Hm. Wonder who this Thomas guy was," Thien murmured to nobody in particular. "Probably some, like, soldier or a politician."

"Yeah," Adrian mumbled. "You think he's still alive?"

"Nah," Thien replied. "Place like this? Nature got him. Or the Cranks."

"He's probably long gone," Justin said, throwing on the pack. "I hope that the other people in this city are, too."

"Sorry, pal," a raspy, hissed voice growled from the end of the alley.

Adrian whirled around to see three people standing at the end of the alleyway.

"The real question is," one of them said. "Who the hell are you?"

* * *

 **Thanks for reading this chapter! So in this chapter I aimed to show how many of the Gladers survived the storm. Believe me, it wasn't easy: Having a story with a ton of OCs can be difficult. It's funny, I even added a new character (Mikey) to the story. Don't worry, he's not like someone you should know, he was a random up until this point. I'm still debating on how long I should make the part in the city. I also might plan to bring back a character, but who he is or if it'll even happen is yet to be seen. I also have plans for Jorge and Brenda to make a brief appearance, but nothing major. Thanks for all the amazing reviews, and if you have any suggestions, leave a review and I'll try my best to get back to you! See you all next chapter!  
**

 **-LI**


	16. Chapter 16: The Scavengers

"Whoa, whoa, back up!" Thien yelled. "We don't want any trouble."

"Well, I guess that's a you problem," one of the Cranks, a man whose face was badly burned, giggled.

"What do you want from us?" Adrian asked; his knees were weak, his heart in his throat.

The burned man, presumably the leader of the trio, nodded to Justin. "What's in that pack?"

"Nothing," Justin replied. "Just some bullet casings, looters took the rest."

The Crank laughed. "You think we're past the Gone, kid? We're not stupid. You," he said, pointing at Kit with a knife, "Go open that backpack and show me what's inside."

Kit stood his ground.

The burned Crank reached back and pulled out a slender, rusted machete. " _Now_ , kid, before I gut you all and take it for myself."

"Kit, go," Thien ordered, not taking his eyes off of the Cranks.

Kit gave in, and reached into his backpack.

"What's in there?" one of the other Cranks asked.

"He was right," Kit replied. "Five bullet casings and a broken can opener."

" _You lie_!" shrieked the Crank, stepping forward. "I'm gonna k-"

The Crank was cut off as a loud blast filled the air, deafening Adrian. When Adrian opened his eyes, he saw blood pouring out of the Crank's chest. The other Cranks looked at their leader before turning and running away, as fast as they could. The burned man fell to his knees. His eyes rolled up in his head, and he collapsed.

"What...what just happened?" Justin asked.

Adrian looked behind him, saw Kit clutching a gun. His face was as white as a ghost, his eyes were the size of golf balls, and his hands were shaking terribly.

"There was a gun in there?" Thien asked, his voice quiet. "An...actual gun?"

"I...I didn't..." Justin trailed off. "Kit...just put the gun down. It's okay...it's okay."

Kit looked at Justin like he had two heads. He still gripped the gun in his hands, pointed towards where the Crank had once stood. Their threat now lay on the ground, a pool of blood forming around his corpse.

"Kit, it's okay," Adrian said, taking a step towards him.

Kit instantly leveled the gun at Adrian's chest. His face showed no recognition of who any of the others were. Shuck, he probably didn't even know who _he_ was.

"I think he's going into shock," Justin murmured. "We need to take the gun from him."

As if on cue, Kit dropped the pistol; It clattered to the ground beside him. His mouth quivered, and tears started to spill from his cheeks as he fell to the ground, unconscious.

 **oOo**

Bernard threw open the truck door. A skeleton lay slumped over the dashboard. Beside him, a backpack. Bernard reached over, unzipped it. In it, there was a pillow, a broken knife, a package of beef jerky, and an empty canteen. Bernard took the pillow the shards of the broken knife out, and then put the backpack on. He sighed as a strange familiarity hit him: wearing the Runner packs back in the Glade. He closed the truck door and moved onto the next one, an SUV. He carefully opened the door. This car must've been abandoned or something when the Sun Flares hit, because there was nobody inside. He opened the glove compartment. Nothing. He left the SUV, maneuvering through burned-out or flat-out destroyed vehicles. The military must have set up some blockade, because there was a near-impenetrable wall of military vehicles and turret nests and the like, preventing Bernard from moving forward. There was just one more vehicle to check, a car that used to be red but was now a dull gray.

He jogged towards the car, and opened the door.

Another skeleton, this one sat upright, hands over its head. In its lap was a small knapsack, with some canned food in it. He sighed a heavy breath of relief as he took off his backpack and tossed the cans into his pack. He then turned, and started to run back. Bernard was always light on his feet, but that was in the Maze, where he just had to run straight all day. The biggest problem he had with running was when the Gladers took the fight to the Grievers. So many people bunched up together was a pain for Bernard. He made it through the wreckage and ran to their shelter.

"Bernard," Lee said, standing up. "What have you got?"

"Some food," Bernard replied. "Four cans and an empty canteen. We should pour some of the water in it." He looked around. "Vex back yet?"

"No, not yet," Lee replied.

"Ohhhhh," Callum mumbled, turning on his side. "My head wrecks. W...What happened?"

"Easy, easy," Glenn warned. "You might have a concussion."

Callum managed to sit up, and looked around. "H-Holy...is that it? Vex, Thien...Adrian? All gone...?"

"Only twelve of us left," Benji glumly replied.

"Vex is alive, don't worry," Bernard reassured.

"And the others?" Callum asked.

Nobody spoke.

"Shuck," Callum whispered to himself. "Okay, okay. We're still intact. We can still make it through."

"Not without food we won't," Vex announced, jumping into the room. "Good to see you're okay, Cal'."

"What's the loot lookin' like?" Percy asked, his voice slightly muffled through the bandages.

"Canned beef, canned corn, canned cans," Vex replied, sliding a large backpack off of his shoulders. "I found one of those little convenient stores. Guess it wasn't looted by whoever survived this mess."

"Good, good," Lee said, unzipping the backpack. "Nice work, both of you!"

"You got it," Vex replied. "Where do you think we'll go?"

Lee inspected a can of peas. "I'm thinking we—"

Lee was cut off as a loud blast rang came from outside. It wasn't close, but it wasn't too far away, either.

After a solid minute of silence, Bernard finally spoke. "Was...was that a gunshot?"

"I think it was," Vex gulped.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

Lee peered out into the darkness, then back to the remaining Gladers. "Everyone ready?"

After a few hushed yeahs and yesses, Lee nodded. "Head down the street, take a left, and book it to the coffee shop Vex talked about."

"Says 'Heavenly Brews,' can't miss it," Vex spoke up from somewhere in the back.

"Right," Lee replied. "Stay close, don't break off. We move fast, we move quiet. Go!"

Lee crawled into the night. It was around eight o' clock, the sun was just beginning to set. He heard the rest start to climb out, and started jogging. He had only gone ten feet or so when he heard a scream.

"Get it off me!" someone shrieked.

In front of him, at least five, maybe more, Cranks had rushed out of the darkness. One was on top of a Glader, clawing at him. Vex, Percy, Benji, and a few others were engaged in combat, swinging and kicking at the sudden enemy. Percy glanced down at the Glader being attacked, and turned, slamming a foot into the Crank clawing at the boy. Lee heard the crack, heard the Crank emit an anguished cry as he rolled off the boy, thrashing wildly. Glenn ran over, picked up the wounded boy, firefighter style.

"Go!" Lee shouted, seeing more emerge from the shadows. "We can't fight them all! Make a break for it!"

The Gladers who heard him complied, sprinting with their packs towards the street. Those who were fighting got the drift, and got off another punch or kick before turning on their heels and running.

Lee led the run, turning the corner. Sure enough, there was the coffee shop. Lee kept running, heard the Cranks screaming behind him, heard Gladers panting as they ran. Vex and Bernard passed him, and then Callum, gripping his shoulder in pain but still running. Vex got to the door first, threw it open. Bernard and Callum came next, then Lee. He looked to see where the other Gladers were.

The rest of them were still sprinting, but they were all there. Glenn wasn't carrying a Glader any more, but helping him run. In the fading light, Lee squinted. It looked like Ross had taken the beating, but he wasn't sure. Mikey reached the door next, carrying one of the packs. Cooper and Dumbo followed. After the last of the Gladers entered the coffee shop, Lee squinted. When the first Crank turned the corner, he slammed the door.

"Everyone, hide!" Lee hissed. "They're coming!"

He heard the Gladers shuffle in panic, trying to find hiding spots. As the Cranks drew near, Lee ran to one of the booths and crawled under it. He heard the footsteps, the raspy breathing, and then the _cling_ of the door as the Cranks entered.

"Did they go in here?" one asked; Judging by his voice, he probably wasn't that old, probably sixteen or so.

"They must've, I saw one close the door," a gruff voice replied.

"We're wasting our time," another voice argued.

"No we're not!" the gruff voice shot back. "That bandaged kid just about killed Schumpeter and that other brat with the big ears damn near put Bradley in a coma! We're gonna kill them, Shumpert."

Lee felt someone tap his hand. He looked over, saw Ross, just an inch away from him. How had he not seen him?

Lee nodded to the Cranks in the shop, still oblivious of their presence(numbering around three or so), as if to ask, _Can you believe this?_

Ross' face was pale. He nodded before mouthing, _I'll take them._

Lee shook his head furiously. _No,_ he mouthed. _They'll kill you. I won't allow it._

 _They'll kill all of us if nothing happens,_ the Builder mouthed. _It's okay._

 _No._

Ross smiled sadly. _It's okay, Lee. It's okay._ He glanced at the Cranks. _Remember me, and tell Kit that I'm in a better place._

 _Ross, don't do this,_ Lee mouthed, but he wasn't protesting. Someone needed to distract them. He just didn't want any more good people to die anymore. _How do you even know that Kit is alive?_

 _I just do,_ Ross mouthed back before taking a deep breath. _I just do, Lee._

Ross set his pack down and then crawled out of the booth. After hesitating a moment, he let out a scream and charged one of the Cranks. Judging by the grunt coming from one of them, it was the youngest. Ross kept screaming as he tackled the Crank, punching him again and again. Lee shuffled out of the booth, carrying both his and Ross' water packs. The Gladers quickly followed, not wanting to watch their friend die, and ran towards an exit. The Cranks, however, were focused on the boy. Ross was no fighter, but he was a Builder, which meant he was strong. The Cranks were gaining on him, but Ross was sufficiently holding them back. Lee herded the group towards a back exit, and watched as they all shuffled out. Lee went out last, and the last thing he saw before he closed the door was a Crank pulling out a shiv and plunging it into Ross' back. He closed the door as he cried out in agony.

Lee felt the numbness return.

Ross.

Just another name, another face, another _person_ , erased.

Lee kept running. He knew he had to stay strong. They ran deeper and deeper, never stopping. As they got deeper, they saw more people. Cranks. They saw the corpses of people. Hung, sliced, beaten to a pulp, stabbed, decapitated.

It must've been three hours of just running when boys collapsed to the ground, gasping for air in an alleyway. Lee had no qualms. They sat like that, gulping in huge breaths of air while they dry-heaved. After an hour of sitting there, one of the boys went over and dragged a piece of rusted sheet metal over the entrance to the alleyway.

Lee was tired.

Lee was sad.

He decided to give in.

He decided to fade into the long dark.

* * *

 **Hey! Thanks for reading this chapter! I wanted to ask: Do you think it was a bit "stretched" with the gun thing? The gun was chambered with only one bullet but still, it might've been a bit...unrealistic. I wanted to make Kit the collective personification of the Trials Kit is friendly and has good intentions regarding himself and his friends, but over time he is slowly worn down and desensitized by the horrors of the world, becoming more and more ruthless and furthered from his former self, even murdering a man with no hesitation. Whether or not he'll come back from this, or if he'll even live, is yet to be seen, as I myself haven't figured out. The thing is, I plan out a story, but as it goes on, I add more character traits and more events to the story. Anyways, thanks for your reviews, and give me any suggestions!  
**


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